


sworn book of pornorius

by possiblythreefourthspeahen



Category: Shall We Date?: Obey Me!
Genre: BDSM, Bondage, Daddy Kink, Dominant Reader, Exhibitionism, Knotting, Multi, One Shot Collection, Overstimulation, Pet Play, Smut, Smut smut and more smut, Submissive Reader, all kink scenes are consensual, discord made me do it, first chapter index, ftm lucifer, gender neutral reader unless otherwise specified, magic power perversion potential activate!
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-07
Updated: 2021-03-13
Packaged: 2021-03-15 09:08:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 27,515
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28561065
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/possiblythreefourthspeahen/pseuds/possiblythreefourthspeahen
Summary: A collection of one shots, ficlets, and headcanons from discordAKA discord made me do it
Relationships: Beelzebub (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!)/Reader, Lucifer (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!)/Reader, Simeon (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!)/Reader
Comments: 9
Kudos: 100





	1. INDEX

Please note that this chapter will be updated as ficlets, one shots, and headcanons are added. Tags will be added for characters, major kinks, etc., but _please check here_ for a more detailed list of trigger warnings/content warnings.

1 - Lucifer has a big clit and you have a lot of fun - ftm!Lucifer, cunnilingus, fingering, afab reader

2 - Pet play with Simeon - role play, pet play, sex toys, praise kink, afab she/her reader

3 - Let's Explore Beelzebub With Tentacles! - gender and sex neutral reader, dominant reader, bondage, muzzle, overstimulation, sounding, magic tentacles (consentacles!), thigh riding, post orgasm torture, Beel has a size kink, pact play, aftercare

4 - feral daddy not quite a dom Lucifer - daddy kink, exhibitionism, knotting, feral behavior, sex in front of an audience, afab she/they reader


	2. Lucifer - cunnilingus

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lucifer has a big clit. You have a lot of fun.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I tried several times to wrangle this into proper paragraphs. It was written in chat, however, one line at a time and that's the way it flows best. Now I'm considering it freeform prose/longform smutty poetry and having done with it
> 
> Please enjoy :)

Lucifer sits at his desk, tie loose, jacket off  
Top button undone  
Sleeves rolled up, gloves on  
Sprawled back as you kneel before him  
Red eyes glittering as you unbutton his pants  
Softly lit from the desk lamp

He fists a hand in your hair as you kiss each scrap of flesh you expose  
…There's no underwear?  
Wait, there it is, just low slung briefs  
He doesn't lift his hips to help you  
So you tear them, watching his brows shoot up and a semi malicious smirk bloom  
You'll pay for it later, of course  
But eyes on the prize: you've revealed dark curling hair,   
a soaked slit,   
and that massive clit throbbing in anticipation

Don't go straight for it, he wants that  
Lock eyes with him while you rub a thumb over his mons   
and leave open-mouthed kisses on his still clothed thighs  
Then brush it with a knuckle when his hand clenches harder in your hair  
and tries to force you closer

Leave him hanging on that instant for an eternity

Or maybe just a heartbeat

And then lean forward and press a butterfly kiss to it  
He’s so wound up   
even that small touch makes him shift impatiently   
and growl at you

Light kitten licks,   
run your hand under him to tease his cunt too  
You could make him _beg_  
But he's so warm here, so flushed and wet  
His lips aren't quite as red as his eyes,   
but as hard as his clit is? It's the same shade of crimson  
When his head kicks back from your teasing   
and his jaw clenches,

lean in   
and suckle his clit

_Hard_

The way he wants you to  
The way _you_ want to

He'll writhe, of course.  
Arch his hips up almost clear of the chair,  
one hand holding you by the hair,  
the other clenched tightly on the chair arm  
God, the noise he made was _incredible_

You have to work to stay pressed tight to him,  
he can't stay still  
But you need that closeness to keep up the suction  
and pull more of those sounds from him

He's _so. damn. wet_.

You keep stroking him and the slick noises his pussy makes  
are almost as good as the breathy growls he's trying to bite back

Back off from his clit  
and he bows over you  
as if to keep you close  
His body trying to trap yours  
But you can't trap someone who already has you captive

Be very gentle with this part –  
he's a demon,  
he likes pain,  
but he's even more sensitive than a human lover  
Gently, _gently_  
rake the point of a tooth against his clit   
as you draw back

He's not sitting anymore  
He's rocketed up and brought you with him,   
one hand braced on his desk  
and the other still faithfully in your hair  
Thankfully the edge of the desk hits his hand  
and not your head,   
which pulls him out of it enough   
that he strokes your hair lovingly for a moment  
It’s nice, but you want to make him _wail_

Push into him now,  
three fingers,  
curled sharply forward  
You know the right spot when his knees shake  
Rub it hard and lick his clit softly again  
Then pull out your fingers and take him gently in your mouth  
Don't suck  
Just hold  
And _wait_

He breaks so prettily  
Both hands on the desk now,   
bent nearly double,   
breath shuddering as his hips buck  
You could make him say please  
But why wait for him to catch his breath?

Suck hard  
and curl your tongue against his clit  
Clench at his thighs and ass and knead while you do  
He shifts and shudders and moans in time to your mouth,  
so start working up and down that clit

All the way to the base,   
back off to just the tip  
In and out  
while you listen to him sobbing above you  
Fingers back in his pussy, stroking feverishly,   
almost able to feel it in your own pussy   
as you clench around nothing   
and he clenches around you

He stutters out your name the first time he comes   
You keep going   
until the desk under his hands   
and your fingers up his cunt   
are all that keep him upright

Until his voice is hoarse with growling   
and groaning   
and moaning your name

When you've decided he's had enough,   
kiss him softly and sweetly on his clit   
before you get to your feet   
to kiss his face   
and ask when he'll be ready   
to return the favor


	3. Simeon - good puppy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pet play with Simeon
> 
> Puppy play, praise kink, anal sex, sex toys, role play, established relationship, afab reader... I think that covers it.

Your shining angel found you, poor stray puppy, wandering alone near his house. It’s drizzly and muddy and you look both pitiful and dazzled as you turn your face up to meet his gaze. He tuts at your predicament – wet and dirty and _all alone_. What sort of angel would he be to allow that to stand?

You whine very quietly, looking as piteous as possible.

He huffs at your antics, but those full lips curve into a wide grin as he picks you up. Shining white wings wrap close around you, warming the air with his body heat as another set arcs overhead to keep off the rain. You nuzzle into the curve of his neck, appreciating the heavenly warmth of his body against yours, the strong, corded muscles that hold you close and _safe_. His stride is smooth and unhurried as he carries you home and you bask in his attention and breathe deeply of his scent. He strokes your back as he walks, lulling you further into a comfortable haze.

There's only a brief pause to unlock his door before he carries you over the threshold. You whine again and cling to him as he sets you onto the floor. "Ah-ah-ah," he chastises, gently breaking your grip before rising again. He stands looking down at you, hands on his hips, both amused and somewhat exasperated at the state of you... and now of his previously clean floors.

"First things first, bath time for puppy."

You jolt away, trying to escape into the house and avoid the dreaded bath, but he easily nabs you by the scruff of the neck to walk you to your ~~doom~~ bath. He closes the door firmly behind the two of you, locking it when he sees you clearly looking for a way out.

His chuckle is very nice. You wish it didn't come at your expense.

You're not wearing anything - of course not, strays don't even have collars - so he doesn't need to strip you before the dreaded bath.The angel pats the far side of the tub and makes encouraging clicking noises. You whine, but accept your fate, crawling across the cold tile toward the large tub. He helps you into it before unhooking the hand held showerhead and starting the water. You manage to look even more miserable in the tub than you did outside in the mud, whining and curled up and shivering a bit for good measure. Finally, Simeon deems the water warm enough and starts rinsing the mud off. He's gentle and the spray isn't too hot and he's even careful to keep the water from getting into your eyes.

You're not too wild about the soap at first, until you realize a) it’s his soap so you'll smell like him! and b) in order to suds you up, he'll be running his hands _all over you_. He starts with your hair, working the shampoo into a lather and carefully finger combing your hair before rinsing to make sure he leaves neither dirt nor tangles. As soon as he's finished your hair, he starts on your body: first your neck and shoulders, you back, your arms and hands, your legs and feet.

Why were you against this again? His hands are gentle and thorough, leaving you clean and utterly relaxed wherever he's been. His touch is halfway between wash and massage and you give long, gusty groans as he works the dirt off your skin and the tension out of your muscles. You've practically melted when he tells you to roll over so he can get your front. He starts at the top again and you stretch your head back to give him access to your throat - he collars it gently for a moment, pinning you down lightly as his thumb strokes along the line of your jaw, before he seems to come back to himself. Moving on, he continues washing you.

His hands on your breasts are frustratingly impersonal. The exact same level of tenderness and thoroughness as elsewhere, but despite how wound up you are, he doesn't seem to notice. Small yips and squirming, holding your fists under your chin in a way that coincidentally makes your breasts more prominent achieves nothing, much to your dismay, except for soft nonsense murmurs and occasionally soothing head pats.

Long, slow strokes of your belly are very nice and almost soothing... but every time you start to relax, his hand drifts a little lower. By the time his hand is at your hips you're practically vibrating, a breathy whine caught in your throat. Your eyes dart between his hand and his face, trying to see if he's being at all effected by this the way you are - if he is, the damn angel doesn't show it!

At least, he doesn't until his hand slides down to cup your cunt in a breathtakingly possessive hold... That, _damn him_ , lasts only the space of a heartbeat. His name rises frantically to your tongue and with great effort, you swallow it back. His fingers run just as gently and impersonally through your folds as they did over your breasts; your yips and whimpers and quivering thighs seem not to move him at all. He washes you in an infuriatingly thorough and unsatisfying manner before rinsing you down and proclaiming you clean.

He turns to get the towel and you decide you've had enough of behaving! Wet and dripping (and still soaked with water, too) you crash out of the tub and onto his lap. It is not a graceful landing by any stretch of the imagination.

You've landed fully on top of your angel, wet and naked and nipping at the underside of his jaw in a desperate plea for more of his touch. Wiggling against him in needy excitement, you discover that you are definitely not the only one effected by your bath... But when you push up, tongue out in a doggy grin and hips pressed against Simeon's, the expression on his face is stern, not encouraging.

"Bad dog," he says firmly.

You don't even stop to think. You drop as low as you can get, chin on your fists as you make yourself small, stung by his disapproval.

He mutters something under his breath as he gets to his feet and grabs a towel. Despite his obvious dissatisfaction, he is no rougher drying you off with the towel than he was washing you moments before. He plucks at his sodden shirt after he's finished drying you off. "And you'd been so well behaved, too," he grouses. He pins you to the spot with a hard look before unlocking the door and ushering you out of the bathroom.

  
  
He walks to his living room as you scamper behind him. Your gait is awkward, a little uncomfortable and frankly embarrassing - palms flat on the ground, knees only slightly bent, ass high in the air. It’s just so exposed and undignified... but then, you are his puppy. How dignified should you expect to be?

  
He stops before what is a clearly well loved armchair and points at the ground at his feet. "Sit." You drop quickly to your haunches, butt against your ankles, knees spread to accommodate the position. Again, your pussy is embarrassingly exposed, but when you see Simeon's gaze flit to it and grow heated, you almost preen. Instead, you give the softest woof, hips wiggling slightly, again using your arms to push your breasts together and make them more prominent. It can't hurt, right?

He _hmphs_ but pats your head before stepping back. Seeing you start to rise to follow him, he holds out his hand, palm out. "Stay." You sink back down into position and whine at him. He steps back again and pulls his shirt off and you get your hopes up. Maybe getting him all wet was a good move after all! His hands move to the button of his pants…

You shouldn't have gotten your hopes up. He unfastens his pants and pushes them down his hips as he turns away from you. You do at least get a spectacular view of his ass and his back as he reaches down to collect his shed clothes before strolling away, comfortable in his nudity and ignoring you entirely. The _tappity tappity_ sound of your nails against the hard floor, the giant puppy dog eyes, the pout, the heartbroken whine... none of it makes a difference; he walks leisurely away.

You _really_ want to follow him.

You _really_ want him to call you a good girl, too, though…

He is, alas, fully dressed again when he returns. He's also carrying something long and furry and tingling with magic. With great effort, you quiet the whine until its barely more than a breath and try to sit still. He notices your efforts and rewards you with another warm smile as he sits in his chair. You lean towards him, but don't dare take a step until he pats his leg and says, "Come here, puppy."

You're moving so fast you skid into his legs as you sit again. It makes him laugh and ruffle your hair. Making him happy makes you feel so good, all fizzy and glowy and golden inside! Dignity? What good is dignity when you can lean against your angel's leg and see him smile so broadly that it makes his eyes crinkle? "Shhhh," he chuckles. "Yes, I can see you're trying to be good. I know. It's not easy behaving." He strokes your cheek and traces your jaw with his knuckles before tilting your head up to press a kiss to your forehead.

"I was hoping to give you this today..." he holds up a beautiful red leather collar with a delicate silver tag on it. You yip a little and stretch your head toward it, trying to nose at it and encourage him to adorn you with his claim. He tuts and uses one finger on your nose to gently push you back. "... but I can tell you haven't earned it yet."

You lay your chin on his knee and look heartbroken. It’s not difficult. Haven't you been trying to be a good girl for him? You just got so needy and excited in the bath tub, you couldn't help yourself! You want to be good, you really really do! You want him to claim you with his collar, want to wear it with pride so everyone can see you belong to such a wonderful master!

_Please, master? Pretty please?_ You say it with your eyes, your brows, and tiny sniffling whines as you sit at his feet and look up at him.

"Hush," he chides, tapping you lightly on the nose. He puts the collar away in his pocket and holds up the item you noticed earlier. "I've decided you may have this today." He holds it out so you can sniff and nuzzle at it.

You would accept anything from his hands, but this is equally as beautiful as the collar. Its long, soft, and the magic makes your tongue tingle when you sniff deeply at the fur. You nudge his hand and lick his fingers when you've finished inspecting the tail. The part held loosely in his fist is probably a belt to tie it on. You lean back onto your haunches and whuff eagerly. Simeon hums his approval. "Turn around and present your cunt for me, my sweet puppy."

You scramble to turn, on your hands and knees, legs spread and head close to the floor. The soft fur flicks over your ass like the gentlest whip and you shudder, whining like a bitch in heat as you raise your ass higher and look over your shoulder at him, tongue lolling and breath panting. He's leaned forward in his chair now, elbows propped on his knees as he inspects your posture, evaluates your good behavior, and teasingly flicks the tail at you while apparently considering if your current good behavior outweighs your previous infraction.

He catches your eye. "Head down." You immediately press your forehead to the floor, licking your lips in nervous anticipation. You can hear his smug smile. "Good girl." That makes you shudder so hard you think you almost came - but you're so empty and exposed! You can feel your wetness dripping down your thighs, feel yourself clench and pulse around nothingness and whine so hard you nearly howl.

_Please, Master?_ you beg without words. _Please, please won't you use my cunt?_ You manage to raise your ass a fraction higher, spread your legs a fraction wider.

Finally –

_Finally!_

Two fingers sink deep into your cunt. You bark with surprised joy at the sensation and push your hips back eagerly against his hand. He laughs at you as he uses one hand to hold your hips and keep you in place. "Easy, girl..." His fingers retreat and you whine so hard the note breaks in your throat, but then you feel his knuckles slipping between your folds to rub over and over from your aching cunt to your throbbing clit. You're so slick it's making obscene noises... not that you can hear it over your own breathy groans. His thumb sinks deep into your cunt and presses hard against a spot that nearly makes you collapse against the ground as the crook of a finger flicks hard against your clit. You hump desperately back onto his thumb, a whining, desperate bitch at Master's mercy.

As swiftly as he entered, his thumb retreats and this time you do howl – it chokes off mid note as his thumb presses against your asshole instead, so wet it sinks in easily all the way to the base of his thumb. Two fingers enter your cunt now and he gently rubs the thin skin separating thumb and fingers. If his other hand hadn't tightened on your hip, keeping you in place, you probably would have jumped out of your skin - or melted, boneless, into a puddle at his feet. The tail he still holds sways; tingling magic and ticklish fur brush your clit with each thrust of his hand. Your nails scrabble against the floor as you try to cling to it for balance, little yips escaping you with every panting breath, hips twitching in Simeon’s hold but unable to rock back to truly meet his thrusts. _Master! Master! Master!_ is what each noise means, but you know better than to use words now. If you use words, he won't be happy. More than even the next thrust of his thumb and fingers, than the collar, than your next breath you want to make him happy!

"Such a noisy puppy," he croons, giving a particularly clever twist of his fingers as emphasis. You frankly weren't aware you could hit notes that high... probably only real dogs could hear that whine.

He slides out of his chair and into a crouch behind you, giving him an even better angle as he fucks into you with his fingers and strokes inside you with his thumb. Your hips jerk and thighs tremble and he makes more soothing murmurs before leaning over to kiss you sweetly on the shoulder… And then he pulls his hands away.

What comes out of your throat is a type of yowling bark you'd previously only heard from spoiled huskies. You twist around, continuing to bark in frustrated fury, but Simeon is unimpressed. Swiftly, firmly – and yet not roughly – you're rolled onto your back as he kneels over you. One hand collars your throat and pins you easily to the floor. You thrash and growl, hips bucking, but he simply leans forward and nips you slightly on the nose.

"Settle."

With the most exaggerated growling sigh you can manage, you pointedly go limp under his hands. He smirks down at you as he pulls your knees apart and drags you closer, one handed.

"Good girl," he purrs.

_Damn it_. There's that almost orgasmic shudder again. The last tremble of it hasn't even finished shaking through your thighs before something large, smooth, and hard presses against your asshole. You jump a little and yelp in surprise when the tapered head slides in. It feels like metal and its almost achingly hot from being cradled in his palm this whole time - and it is dripping with your own slick. The first inch or so slides right in, but it widens quickly to something far thicker than Simeon's thumb. You whine, leg kicking a little but hips pressing desperately against it, trying to take it into yourself. Simeon hushes you and kisses your forehead, working the thick plug in and out of your hole. Now that the shock of the intrusion has worn off, that fizzy, tingly magic feeling has taken over - the tail’s magic. It’s just as strong and pleasant here as it had been at the soft fur you’d felt earlier.

You give an especially broken yip and needy thrust and it sinks deep into you, spreading you further than your ass has ever spread, but you still haven't managed to overtake the widest part. It stings, but when Simeon pulls it back sharply, you feel so empty you almost cry. More than that, you almost say, "Please, Master!" You bite your tongue hard to keep the words in, panting through your nose and focusing on the tingle of magic and warmth of his hands rather than the desperation building inside of you.

Simeon is much more patient with the plug than you are, working it in deeper by mere millimeters with each thrust, withdrawing it completely before starting the next slow glide in. He uses his fingers to gather more wetness from your cunt to spread on your asshole periodically. Each time, he makes sure to teasingly press against the spot in your cunt that makes you groan deeply, head thrown back, begging for more. The stretch still stings - despite the lubrication, despite the lack of haste, despite the soothing and stimulating tingle of magic - but at last it pops in as he pushes the widest part past the stretched and clenching ring of muscle working to pull it in. The sound you make is positively bestial as momentum sucks it further into your channel, but Simeon has a firm hold of the tail and teasingly pulls it back to stretch you open rather than let it sink in to the flared base. You're reduced to hard panting and staring blankly at the ceiling as he shifts his hold from your throat to press against your belly while he puts you through your paces. Your knees shake and your thighs twitch as your focus narrows to the stretch and release of the plug tugging at your hole before easing back in.

The world winnows to just that sensation... And the sensation of the magic growing from small popping bubbles to crashing ocean waves, threatening to pull you into a riptide you could never free yourself from willingly. Simeon pulls the knot free, letting it begin falling from a tapering retreat while you whine before suddenly pushing it all the way in again. The magic crests over you, crashing through your senses, almost enough to drown out the incredible fullness in your ass and the tender hands stroking your thighs.

You thought it would end there... you should have learned by now that Simeon never simply accepts your boundaries. He always pushes you just slightly beyond them.

At first, you thought it was simply hypersensitivity from the extended foreplay. Everything felt sharper. The smooth hardness of the floor beneath you, the heat radiating off your master, even the breath soughing in your throat. But no, the plug of your tail - it didn't feel bigger because your walls were fluttering and clenching around it. It felt bigger because the heavy metal knot was growing larger. The shock of the realization made you bark. You twisted on your back, craning around as if to examine the base of the tail inside you yourself, wanting to roll over onto all fours again but not wanting to challenge the gentle pressure on your stomach keeping you on your back. Simeon stilled your inelegant thrashing by cupping your face in one hand, eyes molten with hunger and twinkling with amusement taking in your stunned arousal.

"It’s ok, sweetheart," he says, voice husky. "We just have to make sure it’s secure, don't we? Almost done, puppy. Almost done..." You vaguely wonder how he can tell if it’s finished growing since neither of you can see it. God, you can feel it though! It feels as if it’s as thick as a fist inside you, having grown steadily from its earlier tight fit to being just shy of painful. Well beyond too much, mind, but still a hairsbreadth from feeling torn open in an unpleasant way. It gives one last pulse of magic, one last iota of girth that somehow still feels incredible rather than excruciating.

"Done," Simeon announces approvingly. "What a good puppy you're being for me," he says, one hand stroking your belly while the other cups your face.

_Good puppy_ ricochets through your mind. Now that you're no longer focused on stretching around the knot, you jaw relaxes and you whuffle at him, licking his fingers and wagging your tail happily.

... wait a minute.

Simeon pulls back with a full-throated laugh as you surge upwards and twist to come face to tail with your new and very animated appendage. You can't control it, even though you can feel it moving, feel how it moves from your own muscles, too astonished and unaccustomed to having it to make it do anything. Each movement of the tail jiggles the knot inside you as well as the magical muscles controlling it. As fast as it’s moving now, you can see why it needed such a large anchor to keep it in place! It whizzes too close to your face and brushes your nose, startling you so badly that you yip and fall backwards.

You land in Simeon's lap again and this time he is clearly pleased to have you there. His breathing hitches suspiciously, as if the laughter might bubble up again at any moment, but he strokes a hand through your hair soothingly. He clearly would speak if he could keep his composure - from your upside down vantage point in his lap, you can see him begin to say something before he's interrupted by that barely-gone laughter. Instead, he strokes a hand through your hair until he reaches your ear, tugging it softly as he strokes it. You groan deeply and melt into him, tail thudding as you ear twitches in his grasp.

... _wait a minute_.

You can only imagine the look on your face- you can feel it scrunching weirdly, eyebrows drawn together and lips pouted, as you wiggle your ears atop your head. You rub at one with a loose fist - they are soft, fuzzy, upright, extremely sensitive, and extremely mobile. You give a small, disgruntled woof. Simeon cracks up again.

Making him so happy still makes you happy, which unfortunately (or fortunately, you haven't decided which yet) makes your tail wag, which makes the knot move, which makes you remember how horny you are… which makes your tail wag and start the cycle all over again.

"Such a cute puppy," he singsongs. "Who's my sweet good girl? You are!" You yip and your tail wags harder. The knot inside you shifts and you almost freeze, eyes going wide as it hits exactly the right spot inside you... before the stimulation drives your tail to previously unimaginable wagging speeds and enthusiasm. The fingers of one hand are still stroking your ear, but the other is cupping your face and therefore within reach! With frantic fervor, you lap at his fingers and whine, wiggling to press against him. "What's wrong, puppy?" he asks. "Does my poor puppy want something?" He moves his hand from your face, ignoring your whimpers and attempts to recapture his fingers. He traces his palm over your throat and shoulders before reaching down to cup one breast and squeeze it firmly. You bark, turning your head into his lap and arching your back to press into his touch.

"I think you do," he says, still smiling but now with wicked heat. "I think my little puppy is needy." He plucks at your nipple in tandem with a rub of your ear that includes the delicate scrape of his nail. Your mouth presses to his thigh, leaving sloppy, open-mouthed caresses against anywhere you can reach. He hisses when you lick at the juncture of his thigh and his hip - his erection is inches from your tongue, caught behind the feeble barrier of his slacks. The hand that had stroked your ears shifts to fist in your hair and pull your mouth away.

"Roll over for me, puppy," he orders. The motion twists the hair in his grip, giving him even better control of your head. He uses it to tip your face up for a hard kiss before sitting back on his haunches and pulling your face towards him. You press your face eagerly against him, inhaling deeply before licking at his cloth-covered cock. "Good girl," he croons. This time the shiver overtakes you with a knot in your ass and one of his hands stroking your ear - you cum, faced pressed against him as you pant your way through it.

It’s a small orgasm. Mostly what it does is make you even more sensitive, more aware of the subtle shifting of the knot as your tail wags, of your achingly empty cunt dripping with slick, of your throbbing clit - of the cock pressed against your cheek, of the hand fisted in your hair, of the heavy breathing of the angel above you... of the weave of the cloth in your way. You take a bit of cloth between your teeth and tug, growling softly. Simeon must agree with your line of thought, since he loosens his grip on your hair, combs his fingers through it, and then unbuttons his pants to give you access to his cock.

You set to work immediately, licking messily at the head, tasting the precum leaking from him. He shudders, hips jerking, and accidentally thrusts shallowly into your mouth. You refuse to suckle it, instead letting it slide back out and continuing to lap and mouth at it. You leave his cock momentarily to press your face against his lower belly and nuzzle affectionately before glancing up at your master. At some point, he'd reverted to his angel form, wings arcing as he stares down at you with raptorial focus. One hand grips the back of your head, angling your face towards the base of his cock. Obediently, you resume licking.

The other skims over your back. It feels nice, of course, but you're much more focused on the cock under your tongue, the soft skin and thick veins, than the hand roving over your back. Or you are… until it grips the base of your tail. You press your face against his thigh and push desperately back against his hand. He isn't tugging at it, exactly, but his grip makes your cunt clench tight and a whine rise in your throat even before the slight pull starts shifting the knot inside you. He hisses above you, pulling at your tail, and you frantically lick at base of his cock and at the balls beneath them. His hand slips from your tail to rub at your clit. He gives it one sweet stroke before he slaps your thigh and says "Turn –"

Before he can even finish the command, you've whipped around, raising your ass and dropping your head, tail lifted high and waving encouragingly. One arm wraps around your waist to drag you against him, lifting your hips a fraction higher as he grinds his cock against your cunt. The other grabs your tail again, tugging as he strokes it from base to tip. The knot rocks with the motion, but it's huge and held fast inside you, despite the delicious tugging. The pressure is driving you wild, barking and panting as Simeon tugs at your tail - and then he sinks a finger into your cunt to feel for himself how wide the knot spread you.

His fingers are not particularly thick. You know this from... extensive experience. However, with the knot filling you, there seems to be no room for one finger in your cunt, much less the thick cock that's currently grinding in turn against your entrance and your clit. It's too tight - you bark in alarm to let him know, high breathy barks as you nevertheless push back against him, looking for more. He lines up the head of his cock with your slit and starts pushing in. Now your barking grows more urgent - there's no room, even the knot breaching your ass hadn't felt like this, there's no way, _you can't_ –

He leans over you, mouth to the ear pressed tight against your skull, and breathes, "Good girl."

You howl through another orgasm, clenching hard against the knot, gushing around the hard cock tunneling into your cunt. Simeon grunts as he bottoms out, panting against your ear as you whine and writhe beneath him. His wings arc to mantle around you, another barrier to keep you from escaping his clutches - the first being the sheer tightness of your cunt with the knot pressing against it. The second is the hand gripping the base of your tail, using it to guide your hips into motion.

Too full, too much - your nails scrape against the floor as you whine brokenly, defenseless against the pleasure. He nips at your ears to hear you bark, gropes at your breasts to feel the way it makes you spasm around him even harder as he pistons into you. You might be his puppy, but your master has turned into a beast around you, grip tight, thrusts desperate, wings fluttering.

The way his cock rubs against the knot as well as every sensitive part of your cunt, the slap of his skin against yours, the way he grinds his hips to rub your clit - you've panted and whined and drooled your way through unbearable pleasure, thrust by endless thrust. You can't tell anymore if you're coming again or if he's just dragging out your last orgasm, tearing it from you with raptor's claws and that magic incantation he breathes beside your ear, into a kiss, against your throat - " _good girl, good girl, good girl_ …" The rest of you might be limp, but your ears still swivel to catch his every breath, you tail still wags weakly where its pinned against his chest, and your cunt still grips him tight with each thrust, wresting as much pleasure from him as he wrings from you.

Long beyond what you can bear but more swiftly than you wish, you can tell his orgasm is approaching. His thrusts become shorter and jerkier, his kisses more devouring, his voice growling more than purring. As if the grip he has on your tail wouldn't be enough to hold you in place, his other hand comes up to collar your throat again. You tilt your head back to give him better access. "Puppy, come," he commands, and you obey.

You can feel him coming with you, spurt after spurt of seed pouring from him and into you. He may not be knotting you himself, but the knot on the tail and the thickness of his cock serves to keep you from spilling even a drop of his spend. He breathes hard against your skin, forehead dropped to rest on your shoulder as aftershocks race through you both. He's hot and heavy, pressing down on you as his energy ebbs along with his peak. He does somehow find the strength to lift you into the armchair with him, sprawling back into it almost fully clothed with you naked and still affixed to his cock.

"This is a one time treat," he warns. "Puppies are not allowed on the furniture." You yip tiredly and stretch to lick at the line of jaw. He may say that now, but both of you know that you will be a very well spoiled puppy...

And more importantly, that you are _his_ puppy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was originally written for [pinepickled](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pinepickled). The version I wrote for her is a little different... but I like this one, too.


	4. Let's Explore Beelzebub with Tentacles!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Beel needs more love. No, more than that. No, more than that. Look, take as much food as you'd feed him in a year, and quadruple it, and that's _almost_ enough love for him. _Almost._
> 
> Gender and sex neutral reader, dominant reader, bondage, muzzle, overstimulation, sounding, magic tentacles (consentacles!), thigh riding, post orgasm torture, size kink/size king Beel, pact play, aftercare

Beel is, first and foremost, a very good lover. He is also the avatar of gluttony.

That is occasionally a problem.

You don't always dom; the two of you switch fairly often if you bother with the power play at all. Sex with Beelzebub is always loving, hot and sweet. But last time it was your turn to take the lead, he did great until he put his mouth on you. That's when the gluttony kicked in and he just _didn't stop._

Which you enjoyed immensely, to be honest, but made him a _very naughty_ submissive. Even laying your crop to his shoulders to try and get his attention hadn't shaken him from his task. Every lash just seemed to make him more eager... and the more enthusiastic he was, the better he ate you out and the harder it was to make him stop. All in all, it was a very delicious vicious cycle that eventually ended 12 orgasms after you'd planned on stopping. Loathe though you were to leave a punishment for another scene, at the time you'd needed Beel to help you sit up, much less walk or discipline him, so you'd tabled his _just rewards_ until today.

You've finished tying Beel up, kneeling on the carpet up in the attic. (The requisite sock on the doorknob warns Belphie to nap elsewhere.)

"Are you sure that's going to be comfortable?" Sure, he is a demon, curling horns and fangs and all, but that didn't mean the floor will be comfortable long term... and you plan on taking your time.

" _Yes_ ," Beel replies immediately. "Please, Master, I want this, the floor is _fine_ –" You hum, unsure, but it isn't like there aren't plenty of pillows around in case you need them later.

He looks pretty as a picture on his knees, deep blue silk cords emphasizing his form as they bind him tight. His wings buzz restlessly behind him – they are sturdier than titanium, no matter how delicate they appear, but you'd still carefully woven the cords around them rather than bind his wings – as much a sign of Beel's excitement as the cock jutting towards you, already drooling precum. You stroke a finger along the stripes on his shoulder, feather light, and watch his cock _pulse_ in reaction.

"So sensitive already," you coo. "Now remember what I said – if you break the cords, your punishment starts all over again." 

Beel groans, a sound that starts deep in his belly before reverberating outwards, and pushes his head forward to press his face to your belly. "I remember," he says, voice already strained. You stroke his hair gently before grabbing a horn and tilting his head back so he would meet your gaze.

"What's your gesture if you need to stop?" you demand. He's already slipping into a lusty haze, but he thumps one foot on the floor, just as you'd worked out earlier. "Good boy." You press a kiss to the top of your head and turn back to the little treasure trove of toys he'd obediently carted up the stairs for you. No mouth for Beel this time – that was his punishment. However, you still hadn't quite decided which you want to use: the ball gag, the steel bit, or the muzzle.

On the one hand, the ball gag and the bit would show off those fangs that drove you a little crazy... and even though he wouldn't be able to kiss you back, you'd be able to kiss him all you want. On the other hand, the muzzle wouldn't muffle his voice the way the gag would... and he'd be able to talk to beg. You _did_ like to hear Beel beg.

You decide against the ball gag for now. Turning back to Beel, you held up the bit and the muzzle. "Do you have a preference, sweetheart?"

His eyes flick between the two, considering, and he licks nervously at his fangs. "Not particularly, Master."

"I see. Close your eyes, Beel." He closes them immediately and you put down the bit before leaning forward and giving him a long, deep kiss. Then you buckle on the muzzle. He gives you a pitiful look as you pull back and you chuckle. "Don't look so sad, baby. I'll take care of you."

He scrunches his face and wiggles his jaw, testing the fit of the muzzle. You had to bite your lip hard to keep from laughing at him – how could almost seven feet of hot, hard, horny demon look so freaking _cute_? The muzzle and the fangs behind them should have made him look vicious, not adorable!

He couldn't move his jaw quite normally, but his voice was unhindered. "But I want to take care of you, Master," he says, whining a little. You lean forward and kiss his forehead before flicking him lightly.

"You will, trust me. Just not with your mouth." Before giant violet puppy dog eyes could start eroding your determination, you turn back to the toys to pick up the bottle of lube. You pull over a little stool and sit down on it between Beel's spread thighs before uncapping the bottle and drizzling a generous amount over his cock. You stroke his cock slowly, spreading the oil from base to tip. Beel groans and his head falls back, hips twitching to thrust slightly into your hold. Even that small movement makes the cords creak and he freezes. Asmo had, of course, offered you magically reinforced cord – but part of the fun was that Beelzebub has to concentrate and control his strength to keep from breaking the silk. He already knew he was to stay in position, silk or no silk, but you like giving him the challenge.

One hand focuses on the head of his cock, fisting it in a tight, slick hold, while the other strokes over his side in a teasing manner. You can see the veins of his neck bulge as his jaw clenches. He's so beautiful, striped with demon markings and silk cords, red hair ruffled and a rumbling whine already building in his throat.

You lean forward and bite one of his nipples and he jerks beneath your grip. You suckle the nipple sweetly and then release your bite, laving the hard nub before pulling back to examine the mark you've made. Beelzebub flushes beneath you, rosy from his ears and his cheeks all the way down his neck and half of his chest. Your bite mark almost fades in the intensity of his blushing, but the deep indents remain. You didn't draw blood, but you have no doubt it will bruise. _How lovely._ Beel shivers beneath your gaze, still very gently rocking his cock into your grip. If you'd demanded stillness, you would chastise him for it, but since he's moving carefully to preserve the silk cords, you smile at him and give him a particularly hard, spiraling stroke of his cock.

"Master," he groans, and his breathy voice is only a shade from being a growl. You know it’s because he's holding back his orgasm with gritted teeth rather than because he's displeased – you've pulled that sound from him before, after all. "Master, faster please, Master –" 

You give him what he asks for so sweetly and watch his head toss back and his wings fluttering spasmodically from the pleasure. His thighs jerk hard as he fights his instinct to buck into your grip and his breath comes in swift pants already. Poor Beelzebub – you've been teasing him all afternoon with the promise of this, rubbing teasingly against him in the halls at RAD, whispering in his ear snippets of the incantation Solomon taught you, texting him photos of toys you were considering using on him… That he hadn't come already is testament to his desire to please you. You know he's been hard since lunch, since that's when you stroked him to full hardness in an empty classroom before running off with Satan for class. He'd sent you proof throughout the rest day that he was still hard for you. The way he shuddered beneath you as you'd sat in his lap before last period started, you know he's been riding the edge for hours.

You consider the hard cock and quaking demon before you and the plans you have for him. Letting him cum will make him more sensitive...

You slide off the stool to straddle his thigh instead, increasing your speed again and making sure to rub that spot on the head that drives him crazy on every upstroke. Pressing full length against him, you command, "Beelzebub, come," and bite his shoulder hard.

He comes hard as soon as your teeth touch his skin. It takes all his strength to keep from thrashing and breaking the bonds. The motion rocks you on his thigh; one of the knots grinds at a spot between your legs that makes you moan along with him. His lips peel back in a snarl, exposing his fangs as he comes. As he comes down slightly, his tongue swipes out over his lips and he moves to put his mouth on you, only to be brought up short by the muzzle. He whines and turns his head to nuzzle you carefully with his cheek, his horn grazing your shoulder gently as he does. "Master..."

You shush him before he can beg for you to take off the muzzle. He huffs in resignation and disappointment but continues to rub his face against you affectionately. You rock your hips to keep stimulating yourself on his thigh while continuing to stroke his cock. He presses against your shoulder and pants as you work him up again. Tentatively, mindful of the fragile cords, he twitches his thigh to rub it against you. He's rewarded with your throaty groan. You let him work you with his thigh for several long moments before reluctantly dismounting. He sways forward as if to follow you as you stand on somewhat shaky legs. You tut at him and he settles back, quiescent. Grabbing the kit you want from the pile on the bed, you return to sitting on the stool, much to his silent but obvious disappointment.

He's slick with his own come and precum as well as the oil from before, but you pour a generous amount on the first sounding rod. This one is slim, straight, and plain except for the ring at the end that keeps it from going too far into the urethra. You rub even more oil into the head of Beel's cock, especially his slit, while rubbing the slender rod teasingly against his cock. Leaning down, you press a kiss to the head of his cock, suckling briefly, before you carefully line up the rod and start dipping it into him.

The first passes barely enter him. You watch carefully to make sure you don't slip, but you also glance often at his face to make sure he still looks like he's enjoying it and listen hard for the thump that means he wants you to stop. Instead, you hear him say, "deeper – fuck, please, please, deeper, fuck me deeper, Master!"

Despite his impatience, you still fuck him slowly with the rod, giving him plenty of time to adjust to the foreign penetration. When he's finally taken it all the way to the ring, you stroke his cock around the rod and watch him shudder. You begin withdrawing the rod and sliding it back in in slow counter rhythm to your hand around his cock so that the rod is at its deepest while you're working the sensitive head of his cock with your hand. You kiss him across his shoulders, up his neck, along the line of the muzzle the whole time, alternating between little nips and open-mouthed kisses. He moans and whines and growls his pleasure as you fuck his cock before demanding, " _More_ , Master."

"Don't be pushy," you warn, but you're already reaching for the next rod in the kit. You spoil Beel, honestly, but he's such a good boy most of the time... and besides, you like spoiling him.

This rod is already a little thicker at the tip than the first rod and it tapers wider towards the end. Like the first, it has a ring for safety. You dangle it from your finger and sling it around playfully, watching Beel eye it with something approaching greed. "What do you say?"

"Please, Master!" He says immediately. "Please, please fuck my cock – please give me more, please fill me up, please!" You tap the rod teasingly against your lips as he begs before finally nodding. You pull out the first rod swiftly and hear his quiet grunt of pleasure at the sensation before applying even more lube and starting to insert the new rod. This one goes in just as easy as the first, but Beel apparently feels the stretch near the top of the rod. His breathing turns jerky and he growls with each exhale, dripping with sweat and wings snapping. You leave the rod pressed all the way inside and watch him writhe in place... and then you slip off the stool to bend down and put your mouth on his cock

You hear it as soon as your mouth touches his skin: an open throated growl so low and loud you can feel it in your chest. It’s like standing next to a speaker blasting a bass line, but even better. After just one lingering kiss, you pull away to look up at him. "Aw, baby, already?" You can't help the delight in your voice or the goofy grin you can feel spreading across your face, but that’s the best noise Beel can make. It’s not continuous like a purr; you call it his friendly growl when discussing it and his super happy sexing growl when thinking about it. The next rumble is _even louder_. You brace your hand on his thigh and lever yourself up to kiss him fondly under his jaw before settling back down to work over his cock.

This is only the second of five sounding rods and already you can feel it move within him under your tongue. The thought of how wide he'll stretch for the thickest makes you shiver in anticipation.

His growl is a nearly constant background to your efforts, broken by the occasional whine or sigh as you thrust particularly deep with the rod or linger on a sensitive part of his cock. He whines best with the rod fully inserted, so you push it in and then concentrate on suckling at the head of his cock. Taking him into your mouth is a challenge on the best of days, but with the rod in you don't even bother to try. Instead, you hold him to you with one hand and press hot, open-mouthed kisses to it while the other hand strokes and fondles the rest of his length, occasionally straying down to tug lightly at his balls. He grunts and starts panting desperately when you focus on the frenulum, licking it while hooking the ring at the end of the rod to pull it out and thrust it back in with torturous slowness.

"Ma – ah!" He has to stop and pant through a hard convulsion that makes his thighs jump and his back arch. "Master," he starts again, and then his teeth click as another shudder rocks through him. "Master, I'm so close, Master, please, please may I come?" You release his cock from your mouth long enough to look up at his face, licking your lips as you do. The oil you've used is tasteless, but Beel's precum seeping into your mouth is delicious. You make him wait for two more slow thrusts of the sound, pretending to consider his request.

"Please," he whimpers. You graciously incline your head and latch on to him again. "Please, please, Master, ah! There, Master, Master – thank– _Master!_ " You pull back as he starts to come, curious, but keep stroking him with your hand and holding the rod in to the hilt. The first hard pulse actually pushes at the rod – surely something only a demon's seed could do! – but you push it back and watch the rest of his come gush around the rod like a burbling fountain.

He whines as you continue pumping his cock, milking every drop of come from him before you finally pull the rod free. "No, Master, please, I need it," he babbles.

"Shush," you say with mock sternness, retrieving the next rod from the kit. Despite your tutting, he continues begging until the new rod is at his slit.

This rod isn't smooth like the others – instead, it had a series of balls of gradually increasing size. The first few inches must have felt good, since Beel moans and grinds his hips up to meet them, but they don't _stretch_ him. Then, about half way up the rod, the balls became thick enough that it _is_ a stretch. You can tell immediately from the high whine that rises in Beel's throat as he throws his head back and pants. "Aa– ah, fuck, Master, _fuck_ , **_yes!_** " You torture him by pulling that one ball out and pushing it slowly back in, watching his slit part to accommodate its girth and then close around the shaft after swallowing it. You push in to the next ball, larger again, and press it against the head of his cock as if ready to thrust deep... and then you pull the whole wand out just to hear him whimper.

He arches forward to rest his head on your shoulder, begging in a broken whisper, " _please, Master?_ " You turn to kiss his forehead as you sink the rod back into him... several balls deeper than the one he begged for.

He gives a desperate grunt and rocks against you. Knowing what he needs, you nip at his ear and say "You don't need permission to come today, Beelzebub. Let it come whenever you're ready." Another withdrawal and thrust, just a little deeper. The difference between the balls is greater at this point, near the top of the rod, and you add more oil as you pop the next in. He pants and growls and comes all over the rod and your hand, so sensitive that pushing the next ball in almost makes him scream.

"Need a break, Beel?"

"No," he growls before you even finish the question.

You could tell he wants to kiss you, to mark you up with hickies and love bites, but the muzzle prevents him from doing so. He looks frustrated with it, but instead rubs against you gently with his ridged horns, careful of the points. His wings buzz nonstop behind him as you slide the final, widest ball into him, the metallic shine of the steel ring contrasting nicely against the wet sheen of his flushed cock, coated with lube and come.

You kiss his throat, his shoulders, his chest for long moments while stroking him gently, rubbing your thumb in fascinated circles wherever you felt the steel ball pushing against his cock. Eventually you lean back to survey your handiwork, hooking the ring with your index finger and using it to tilt his cock this way and that while you drink in the sight of him. It makes for a very convenient handle, you had to admit... you weren't generally one for leashes, but it was a very _tempting_ thought. You'd have to keep it in mind for next time.

Pulling out the third rod one ball at a time, watching them emerge from within him as he gasps and groans, you made sure to stroke his hair with your other hand and praise him for how good he was being, telling Beelzebub how much you love him, how much you enjoy bringing him pleasure, hearing his pleasure, seeing it on his face and as he spends.

The smaller balls on the rod clearly frustrate him. He can still feel them – hell, you can feel them moving inside him if you press your thumb against his cock – but Beel doesn't want to just feel them. He's taken the rods much faster than you'd originally intended; you'd expected possible teeth gnashing while pushing the rod in, not while taking it _out_. The muzzle actually seems appropriate just then, with his lips peeled back and fangs clicking as he fights the need to thrust and reclaim the rod and that fullness he craves. You stroke his side soothingly, smoothing his hair back from where it’s plastered to his forehead with sweat, kissing around the muzzle. He continues to breathe hard through gritted teeth, obviously still fighting to control himself despite your efforts to calm him.

He clearly won't come down any more than he has, so you decide to press on. The penultimate rod is again tapered, but this one is also spiraled. It gleams like a particularly perverted unicorn's steel horn, the blunted tip as thick as the ball on the previous rod that had driven Beel mad with need. He shifts impatiently as you pour on more lube, but you steadfastly refuse to rush. It doesn't matter that he'd heal, you don't want to hurt him just because he doesn't like to wait.

You push the rod in slowly, ignoring his grumbling and whining and pleas for "more, fuck, more, Master, faster, _fuck me_ – "

A third of the way in it’s as wide as the widest ball from the third rod. From the way he pants and clenches his teeth, you worry that it's too much for him, so you start to pull it out, intending to add more oil and maybe switch back to the last rod.

" ** _No,_** " Beelzebub snarls, and snaps his hips up

The silk cords tear as if they had been wisps of mist and not strong silk spun by Devildom spiders. His thrust pushes his cock open on the spiraling rod all the way to the hilt and he _roars_ as he comes in hard bursts, his whole body clenching with the force of it. You gasp and smack his chest, more from surprise than for punishment. "Beel! No!" Unthinking, you yank out the rod. The last few spurts of his semen follows quickly after it as though chasing the sound in your hand.

He falls back onto his heels, gasping for breath behind the muzzle, hands still bound. His expression changed rapidly from utter bliss to thunderous frustration as you'd removed the sound. His brows furrow and he looks almost hurt as well as disgruntled as he stares up at you from where he kneels on the floor.

"Master," he rasps, "why did you take my toy?" You glare down at him, toe tapping on the floor, but inwardly you're elated.

Beel almost never focuses on his own pleasure, no matter what games you play together, more focused on _your_ pleasure. Satisfying you satisfies his own gluttony most of the time – you hadn't believed it when he first told you so, but experience has convinced you that it is the truth. And while his disobedience last time landed him in the muzzle this time, the fact that you'd pushed him so far into his pleasure that he'd forget his place? Oh, yes. That was _lovely._

Not that it would keep you from punishing him now, however.

"Beelzebub," you say sternly, "what did I tell you would happen if you break the cords?" His eyes widen in dawning realization and disappointment.

"No, Master, please!" He shuffles forward on his knees to press his face against your thigh and nuzzle. If the muzzle were off, you know he'd use his kisses to try and sway you; for now he's stuck begging. "Please, Master, I don't want to stop today," he says. "I don't care if I wear the muzzle for the rest of the year – if you want me to I will! But please, please don't stop now!"

You notice how appreciative his inhale is with his face so close to your sex, but he shakes his head slightly and focuses again. "I'm sorry, Master. I disobeyed and I broke the pretty cords you put on me. I know it was wrong. I want to make it up to you, I really do! But please, I feel so _empty_ now!" Nobody does pleading eyes like Beel – and no one could ever be so earnest in their fervent pleas. His eyes water with genuine remorse... and raw need.

You pretend to consider it, but as soon as he asked to continue, you had already decided to do so. You do enjoy spoiling Beel, after all. "I will give you a chance to earn your toy back," you say, sounding magnanimous. His expression instantly lights up.

"Thank you, Master! Thank you! I will earn it, I promise!" You smile at his enthusiasm. It feels wicked.

"Yes, you certainly will."

You urge him to spread his knees wider apart and lean forward. His hands tied behind his back, the position is a little awkward, but that suits you fine. Head down, ass up, knees spread – he is a tempting feast. You position your stool so that you sit right in front of his downturned head. His deep inhale as he scents your arousal and his subsequent shudder of need do fascinating things to the muscles of his back and his wings rise and fall restlessly. He bends over a fraction further and the muzzle clicks against the hard floor. To taunt him further, you spread your legs wide, bracketing his broad shoulders with your knees. He groans at being so close to you yet unable to put his mouth on you – you hear a dripping sound and you aren't sure if he's drooling or if his cock is leaking precum again. Possibly both, you think with a grin.

Blessings upon Asmo and Solomon for their adventurous, magically exploratory sex life. The words roll inside your mouth, echoing with power before they even enter the open air. "I call on your strength, Beelzebub, and hold it in my power," you begin. Beel makes that not quite a purr rumble while kneeling between your legs and you have to bite your lip to keep focused and continue the spell.

The pact bond thrums between the two of you, warm and welcome, like you plucked the strings of a guitar and drawn forth a resonant sunbeam rather than a chord. You almost never use it, but pact play is something you'd agreed to look into and Solomon had been happy to share his spells. If it feels this good to Beel – which it seems to – it may need to become a regular part of your playtime.

Despite how sunny his energy feels, what manifests as you chant is shadowy. Small tendrils slide over Beel's kneeling form, thinner than the silk had been but far, far stronger. After all, each wisp is equal to all of his strength, his power multiplied by the pact bond and distilled by your incantation. Soon you have him bound more securely than ever, except for the foot you leave free in case he wants to call things off. Once he's well restrained, you reach simultaneously for more power and between your thighs. Beel groans as a fresh wave of your arousal hits the air – and gasps when the first inky tentacle slides up his thigh to grasp the base of his cock in a tight grip.

“Uhn – _mm!_ Master!" Before he can continue, you clench your new shadow limb around his cock even tighter, feeling the way it bucks in your grip. One hand slowly strokes yourself through your clothes and with your free hand you grasp one of Beelzebub's horns and tilt his head back to meet your gaze. It can't be comfortable, but given the hot flush on his cheeks and his hazy, blissful gaze, you don't think he minds.

"You're going to be a good boy for me now, aren't you, Beel?" As you speak, more appendages grow from your shadows, reaching for Beel with the grasping, greedy _hunger_ you've been holding in check all day. That rolling growl of pleasure intensifies. You can feel it through the shadows, in your chest... and in the oh so sensitive arousal scant inches from his mouth, jaw loose and lips soft behind the muzzle, fangs glinting and tongue flicking out to taste the air.

"Yes, Master," he growls, and it’s a promise you will make sure he keeps.

Beel's tongue curls around his fangs as he licks his lips, shifting slightly in the immutable grip of your combined power. You curl a thick tendril in a spiraling path up his thigh... and both of you groan as it reaches his ass and gropes it with rough affection.

Practicing this spell hadn't truly prepared you to use it. On your own, the shadow tentacles had been fairly sensitive and intriguingly dexterous. With Beelzebub's power and the pact bond in the mix, touching him with your shadows felt _different._ You couldn't fully explain it – could barely comprehend it – but supposed it was like the difference between using a hand and using a vibrator. The sensations were different, stronger, and incredibly erotic.

Beel tries to rock back against your hold, but that's when the smaller tendrils reveal their strength. He whines desperately as he twitches, trying in vain to press his ass further into your grip, and his brow furrows as he stares up at you with pleading frustration. A slow, sly smile stretches across your face. You very deliberately constrict his bonds for a heartbeat or two, long enough to make your point, before you speak. "Not this time, Beelzebub. You will stay exactly where I put you, in whichever position I wish. You will not rush me. You will take nothing I am not ready to give you." You lean down, staring directly into his violet eyes, teary with need and dark with lust. " _I will not allow it_. Do you understand?"

Beel tries to nod, but your hand on his horn and your filaments weaving into his hair to grasp it firmly prevents him from moving. He gives a low, guttural groan at discovering the extent of his restriction, his cock jerking so hard you hear it slap against his belly. Once he's composed himself slightly, he rasps, "Yes, Master."

Your shadows card through his hair in a loving caress even as you squeeze his cock in the ring and kiss his temple. "Good boy, Beelzebub." His breath shudders out of him and you feel a fluttering, pulsing push against your hold at the base of his cock. This time, you do not allow him to spill as he comes, trembling in your grasp.

You lean back again, watching him trying to buck against the shadows, wings buzzing so strongly that he'd levitate if you weren't holding him down – and while he's lost in his pleasure, you pull the rods closer to you with a tendril while another wraps around his cock to stroke him through the first dry orgasm and immediately into a second. His skin is so silky under your magic, so _warm_. Your hand between your thighs clenches in response and you realize you'd stopped stroking yourself while watching Beel. You resume as Beel reaches the third consecutive peak, cock drooling continual strands of precum and left over oil but no seed.

It takes a great deal to overstimulate the Avatar of Gluttony. Even as he sags in your grasp, most of his weight leaning upon the thin strands of magic, he pants out, "Please, Master, _more_."

"Why don't we play a game, Beel?" you suggest, feeling both wicked and indulgent. "I'm going to make myself come while you watch without touching me... and I'm going to make _you_ come the whole time. If you can keep count of how many times you come, then I will let you have your toy back tonight. If you lose track, you won't have it back for two weeks. Deal?"

" ** _Yes_** , Master," he says, smiling beautifully even as he grunts with another orgasm. "Should I start counting here or from when you cast your spell?"

"Start counting from the spell," you say, settling back on your stool to begin stroking yourself firmly but leisurely. As you do, more tentacles sprout from your shadow to begin caressing Beel all over: nipping at his ears and jaw, collaring his throat, kneading his chest, lapping at his nipples, stroking his sides, milking his cock, pushing teasingly against his asshole...

Perhaps it is the influence of his sin, but you feel as if you are consuming him and yet it isn't enough. More tentacles, as thick around as your wrist, grow in response to your need and lift Beel from his kneeling position, pulling him into a suspended reclining position, legs spread wide and knees pressed against his shoulders, head tilted forward to keep watching your hand moving over your clothes. A shadow passes through the muzzle before forming into something that is almost lips and a tongue and you devour Beel in a kiss, reveling in your ability to do so without worrying about coming up for air. Even better, your shadow tongue dives deep into his mouth as you watch your magic moving over him, kissing him, feeling him, and seeing him from a prime vantage point. He moans against the tongue he's suckling – probably a number to help him keep count. Unfortunately for Beel, your hunger is for him, not your own pleasure... so he will likely be in your grasp for quite a long time.

You finally let your shadow mouth recede so Beel can breathe – a novelty that in itself makes all the hours of practicing the spell worthwhile, as normally you’re the one gasping for air at the end of a kiss – as the tentacle at his ass breaches him slowly. Beel writhes in the air before you as you push the thick shadow through the grasping muscle and into the much softer, ultrasensitive flesh inside him. You curl part of it near his rim to form and push a knot against him even as the part within him splits into smaller tentacles seeking out every spot inside him that makes him gasp. You stroke your magic over his prostate softly but incessantly while the knot starts to sink slowly into him before retreating and while other tentacles continue to stroke his cock. This time, you loosen the ring of shadow at the base. He comes with a tormented groan, a deluge of his seed, and a half-swallowed "F-... five."

He comes in such hard spurts that some of it reaches you, splattering on your clothes. You tut in mock consternation, swiping it up with a finger to show him. "What a messy boy – just look what you did!" He sucks in a breath, clearly about to apologize, when you bring your hand to your mouth and start licking up his come. The sight renders him speechless, staring at you with wide-eyed and fruitless longing as his hips jerk and another spurt of come dribbles from him. You stop, tongue curled around your thumb, and consider him. "Was that an aftershock or another orgasm, Beel?"

"Six, Master," he says breathlessly.

You smile at him. "You're trying so hard to keep count, aren't you, baby? You must really want your toy back."

"I do," he answers hurriedly. "I love the rods, Master, I love how you fuck me with them, I love how – ah! Ahhhn! Sev... seven! – how full they make me – oh, please, Master, please fill me with your knot, _please_ –"

The feel of him clenching around your magic as you push the knot almost all the way in, only to back off just before the widest part and then begin again... fuck, was magic meant to feel so good? Your touch on yourself was slow and light, but the way Beelzebub felt to your magic senses had your breath hitching and your thighs bunching. You refuse to close them, though, seeing Beel's rapt gaze fixed on your hand there... though you do decide that it is time to unbutton your pants, pull down the zipper, and push your hand into your underwear to stroke yourself without the fabric impediment. You give a gusty sigh as you touch your own slickness and Beelzebub growls and pulls hard against the magic holding him. His wings thrash in a way they hadn't even when he came a moment ago, striving to bring him closer to you, to put his mouth on you and _feast_ – You withdraw the tentacles in his ass entirely before surging forward with them, bringing the thick knot through the muscles greedily trying to pull it in. In fact, you press so much of your shadows in that they curl in on each other and you can see Beelzebub's belly stretch slightly from being overfilled. It is apparently enough to snap him out of the pleasantly predatory state he'd slipped into since he howls as he comes again. Before more than a dribble can escape him, you press hard against the base of his cock, trapping his seed within him again. The howl becomes a wail with the action, transforming somewhere along the way from wordless to fervent, inelegant begging.

With one tendril, you smack him across the ass. "Speak up!" Your hand moves faster as you drink in his reactions.

"Fuck! Please, fuck, I – Master! Uhn! Haah... Pl... please, Master, more, fuck, more, I need – let me taste – ahn! Niiiiiiine... Master, Master, Master, I need you, Master, fuck, please! Please fuck me! Master!"

"Of course, baby," you croon, holding back your orgasm because you want to keep him in this sweet delirium. "All you had to do was ask." With a thought, your shadows have gathered themselves and begun to pull out, forming a series of knots that pull at him as you withdraw. Beel sobs and tries to buck to push back against the thick tendrils, but you hold him still, refusing to let him chase them as they retreat. The last knot is as big around as Beelzebub's fist and he shudders and cries as it escapes him with a lewd _pop_. "Master, please, I'm so empty – " before he can continue his complaint, you coil the shadows and thrust back into him. This thrust is more force than grace, as is the next, and the next, and the next... Beel sobs through two more orgasms, tears dripping into his muzzle, drool dripping from his parted lips, and a steady river of precum drooling from his cock. You hold back his semen still, but he doesn't seem to mind much as he shakes with pleasure as your tentacles fuck him roughly. Your own pleasure tugs insistently at you, despite your attempts to push it off indefinitely. You can feel it building, so you deliberately slow your strokes, easing your touch to something almost ticklish that makes your hips rock restlessly on the stool. It’s time to end the game – an even dozen should do nicely for Beel, you decide, and then a few more with the rods and the shadows. With that in mind, you pull your hand out of your pants and stand.

Beel struggles to focus hazy eyes on you as you stalk closer to him. "Master?"

"Shhhh," you reply, rearranging him in your shadows. You tilt him back and pull his legs down so he's reclining, thighs spread and almost parallel to the ground, and then you mount him, straddling his thigh and gripping his cock with one hand and a horn with the other.

The minute you touch him, it's as if you've completed a circuit you never realized was broken. The extremely pleasant sensation from the magic changes instantly – a pleasure so vast and deep that it’s like being struck with lightning. You moan and curl forward, pressing your face against Beel's shoulder as you try to process the sensation.

Beelzebub, sensing your distress, pulls gently at your hold until he can reach down and rub your face with his, mindful of his horns and the muzzle. "It feels so good, doesn't it, Master? Your magic. My power. It's intoxicating and incredible. I love the feel of it." His voice rasps, _purrs_ , over the words as he whispers them in your ear. "I love you, Master. I want to be a good boy for you. Will you ride me? Please? I want you to use me to pleasure yourself." The sensations are still overwhelming, but Beel's voice, his caress, his simple pleasure in your nearness – it grounds you, slightly. You still feel the lightning coursing through you, but Beel is with you, so you know you can harness it rather than be blasted away.

You're panting shakily with the effort, but you somehow managed to hold off your release, so you nip at Beel's shoulder and begin to rock your hips as you start stroking his cock while thrusting into him with your shadows again. His head falls back as he moans, exposing his throat, and you take the opportunity to bite hard at the juncture of his neck and his shoulder. He twitches hard under you, trying to buck his hips, and you grin around the flesh between your teeth.

Eventually you release the bite and lean back to study your mark, still rocking slowly against his thigh. You didn't break the skin – it's almost impossible for you to do so when he's in this form – but your teeth leave deep impressions, the oval bite mark crossing one of the dark markings collaring his neck and arcing across the pale skin on either side of it. "You are a good boy for me, Beel," you say, the hand on his horn migrating to stroke over your latest claiming mark. "A little naughty sometimes –" you tap the end of the muzzle pointedly – "but overall a very good demon, indeed." This time your mouth on his throat is gentle.

Your shadows thrusting inside him are decidedly not. A few tendrils cage his prostate, stroking it but mostly shielding it from the heavy thrusting that would otherwise be too painful. Thick tentacles – thicker even than the ones suspending your weight and Beel's – piston into him at a slow pace with brutal force. As soon as you'd found your feet and started rocking on his thigh earlier, Beel had started whimpering and moaning and begging again. Pleas for “ _more”_ and “ _faster”_ and “ _thicker, fuck, stretch me open”_ pour from him continually now. You nip and kiss at his neck, his chest, and his nipples as your hand leaves his cock to press on his belly and feel it move as your shadows fill him beyond human limits – and still he begs for “ _more, please, more, Master!”_

Your next thrust carries your hips a little higher up his thigh and you grit your teeth against the orgasm building within you – Beelzebub may have broken the silk cords earlier with that one errant thrust, but they still crisscross his chest, restrain his hands... and a few still cling to his thick thighs. It rubs a spot that makes you see stars and bite Beel savagely as you grind against it, pressing hard against his stomach as you push more and more shadows into him with every thrust.

"Aaaahn! Ah! Master, Master please, I can't– I can't hold back, fuck! Master, please, I want to come with you, please, mn! _Hnf!_ "

It may be cruel of you, but you grab his weeping cock and stroke it again, still holding back your own release while grinding against the cord stretched taut across his straining thigh. You're playing with fire, testing his resolve... and your own.

You manifest another shadow mouth to kiss Beel with through the muzzle while biting along his collarbone and the swell of his pecs. You also switch from long strokes to focusing on the head of his cock with your hand, pressing against and occasionally partially into the stretched slit and tugging your thumb from it to the crest of the glans and back. You cup the glans in your palm and rub it vigorously as you bring a fourth thick tentacle to Beel's ass and begin pressing it inside, parting him slowly and _feeling_ him growl around the tentacle in his mouth. He actually scrapes his fangs over your shadows, which makes you jerk in surprise and grind harder against him – and then you're at the brink and ready to fall with him. The shadows recede from his mouth so you can hook a finger through the steel of the muzzle, guide his gaze to you, and order, "Beelzebub, come, _now_."

Beel growls and his whole body shudders as he obeys even as you surrender to your own pleasure, but his burning violet eyes are trained on your face as he comes. Your vision goes dark at the edges from the brutal intensity of the pleasure, your thighs gripping his so tightly you think _you'll_ probably have a bruise from the cords on his thigh, but even as your nails dig in to his shoulder and your hand on his cock continues to work him and prolong his orgasm, you maintain the eye contact. The intimacy of it is searing – just like the pact bond, you realize belatedly – and it heightens an already incredible pleasure by sharing it, multiplying it exponentially in the process.

You lean against his broad chest as you drift through the afterglow, catching your breath and snuggling close. Your keep stroking the head of his cock occasionally and let your tentacles writhe inside him to feel him jerk from oversensitivity as you do – you might be satisfied, but you're not yet sated.

"Such a good boy for me," you purr, and press a soft kiss over his heart before sitting up again. "Did you keep count?"

"Yes, Master. I came twelve times since you cast the spell," he replies promptly. Insatiable demon that he is, even if he's twitching in feeble attempts to escape your touch on his excruciatingly sensitive cock, he still looks incredibly eager to get the sounding rods back.

You hold up the spiraling steel horn that he'd thrust up into his cock without permission. "Is this what you want, sweetheart?"

"Yes, please!"

You smile a shade cruelly. "I don't think so." You toss it absently over your shoulder so it lands on the bed. Beel pouts, clearly about to protest, when you use your shadows to push the largest rod all the way into him instead.

He gives a bellow as he bucks hard, too sensitive for the rod invading his cock, too needy to reject it. You hold the steel in place as you release your hold on the base of his cock, letting multiple orgasms' worth of semen release at once. His wings thrash and jerk the way you know his whole body would if you released him from your shadows. As spurt after spurt of come gushes out around the thick metal rod, the bellow changes into that open throated growl of pure pleasure. It thrums, deep and loud, so hard that you could feel the vibrations through his chest. "There you go," you croon. "Good job, Beel. Look how much you had stored up!"

You pull the rod out a few inches before thrusting it back in, fucking him with it as your shadows fuck his ass. His head hangs back, limp, but you can hear him whispering "yes, yes, _fuck yes_ , thank you, fuck! Master!" around the irrepressible growling.

He's so wonderfully responsive now. The slightest slide of the rod makes him quiver at the edge of another climax. The slow, deep slide of the shadow tentacles inside him makes his hips twitch. With what appears to be great effort, he lifts his head to watch the sound fucking into his agonizingly sensitive cock. Another orgasm rips through him before he can tear his gaze away to look at you – and when he finally manages it, he gives you a smile of such pure joy that it stabs at your heart.

Tears track down his cheeks, bite marks and hickies trail across his jaw, neck, and shoulders, his belly distending rhythmically with the shadows thrusting into him, his cock parted and weeping come around a steel rod as thick as your thumb – and he's so damn _happy_. You reach forward with one hand and fumble to unbuckle the muzzle as your shadows tip him forward. As soon as it’s off, your mouth is on his, kissing him over and over as he smiles against your mouth and comes in your hands.

"I love you," you say between kisses. "You did so well, you're such a good demon – Beel, you're perfect, fuck, I don't deserve you, you're so beautiful – " you keep kissing and fucking him through it, saying everything that comes to mind, every wonderful thing about Beel you've ever noticed, until you finally hear three small thumps.

Instantly you have your shadows set him down on the bed and release him. You untie his hands as he sits, still shuddering with aftershocks.

You go to pull out the sounding rod but he gently grabs your wrist. "Leave it in, please?" You swoop down to kiss him again.

"As if I could deny you anything. Lay back, I need to unlace these cords and clean you up." Despite your tutting, he sits up to steal another sweet kiss before sprawling out and letting you dote on him.

You press more kisses to his face, his chest, his belly, his thighs, everywhere as you untie the silk cords and smooth your hands over trembling limbs. You start to fret over him lying on his wings, but since he tries to pull you on top of him, you dance back out of his grasp and decide it must be fine. You turn to retrieve the soft cloths and warm water (magic is such a blessing) to clean him up first.

He groans and shudders when you gently rub the cloth over his cock. "I know, baby, I know. But if I don't clean you now you'll be itchy and miserable later."

"I know," he grumbles. "But I just want to cuddle now. Please?"

"Almost done," you promise. You can't help but lean down and press a fleeting kiss to the head of his cock before you start wiping at the mess on his thighs and belly, grinning at the half outraged, half aroused squawk he gives in response.

At last, you set the water and the washcloths aside, pat him dry, and slide onto the bed next to him. He immediately curls around you, not-purring so hard it makes the bed rattle. You stroke your fingers through his hair, over his horns, across his shoulders, and back again in long, slow circuits. Beel buries his face against your neck and inhales deeply before exhaling and relaxing so suddenly it’s as if he's melted.

Neither of you speak for a long, long time, just curled together, dozing and caressing. When Beel finally breaks the silence, his words startle a laugh out of you.

"I wanna fuck you with the sound in later," he says.


	5. feral daddy not quite a dom lucifer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Live writing/interactive fic for tung cleaned up a bit! Prompt was protective/possessive daddy Lucifer after a date with MC gets spoiled by other demons. Hopefully not too graphic violence at the beginning.
> 
> AFAB she/they reader
> 
> Kinks include: daddy kink, daddy dom adjacent/daddy switch, sex in a public place, anal fingering, exhibitionism, wing kink, feral behavior, knotting, come inflation, breeding kink
> 
> featuring Simeon/Satan background action

You've never seen Lucifer lose control like this - and it happened so damn _fast_. One minute you'd been walking with him hand in hand, teasingly whining about the after-dinner surprise he had in store for you, leaning against his side and generally being all sweet and cuddly and lover-like... the next there were three very dangerous looking and incredibly stupid demons brandishing knives and demanding that Lucifer hand over "all his Grimm... and the human piece, too." 

At which point Lucifer promptly lost it. 

He'd been annoyed but willing to talk them out of their foolishness until they referred to you like a scrap of meat. Before you could even blink, his power surged around you, wrapping you in a protective barrier that glittered translucent blue with swirls of red and black but didn't block your view of the hurricane of black feathers and red talons as they tore into screaming, retreating would-be muggers. 

You could tell that he'd slipped into the bloody rage he'd warned you about before. Instead of a clean kill - which you knew very well he was capable of, from offhand remarks from Lucifer and his brothers - he seemed to revel in tormenting them, cracking bone as he clawed deeply into their flesh. He let two start to crawl off while apparently focusing on one - only to cruelly pounce and drag them back to continue working them all over. Inhuman screams faded into terrified whimpers into reedy, rattling breaths as Lucifer excoriated them. 

They weren't moving anymore - you're pretty sure they're not breathing anymore - but Lucifer has fixated upon them. You press your hands to the barrier, feeling the warmth of his magic under your palms, and try to drag his attention away from his very thoroughly defeated prey. "Lucifer," you call, banging against the barrier with one hand when he doesn't even glance your way. "Lucifer!" Still nothing. He's covered in... blood is the least of it, you realize, peering through the magic. He's covered in _viscera_. So much for the refined clothes he'd worn on your date - he'd even worn a pretty blue button up with the collar loose, but now it's a muddy brackish color and ripped to boot. Damn it, you'd bought him that shirt, it brought out his eyes so well... "Lucifer!" He pauses momentarily, but doesn't look at you. You think you've got his attention, but a breeze ruffles the torn flesh of one mangled body and he's instantly tearing at it again. 

_Fuck._

"Lucifer! You beat them, you've won! You can stop now - please? Lucifer?" He pauses and cocks his head, clearly listening. "Nobody's going to take me away, no one could ever hurt me. You protected me. Please, Lucifer? C'mon baby, come back to me..." 

He eases closer to you, but he's still facing outwards, looking for any further threats. His wings flare and block the massacred remains from your sight, but it also leaves you in his shadow in this alcove he'd pressed you into. You vaguely realize you don't recognize this area at all before you turn your attention back to Lucifer. He's still on high alert, damn it, even though you're safe and want nothing more than to check him over and make sure he's not hurt. 

Lucifer is still listening to you, but his focus is clearly not where it should be (i.e., squarely on you! outside of this barrier!) so you decide to try something... different. Thinking back to last night and the vigorous activities you got up to, you pitch your voice soft and a little high. "Please daddy?" 

Whether it's your words or your tone, you can't say, but as suddenly as the barrier was in place, it's gone and Lucifer is pulling you into his arms, wrapping you in his wings. He croons and strokes your face with bloody fingers and he's very unpleasantly wet and, yeah, kind of stinky, but you lean into him. 

He's _shaking_ , you realize. You can feel the tremors in his hands as he cups your face and scans you with worried crimson eyes. 

You cover his hands with yours, feeling how cold they are under the blood. "Please? I need to take care of you. Won't you let me? You took such good care of me, Lucifer - let me tend to my daddy, too?" 

You gently pull his hands away from your face, which makes him stiffen - but then you cup his face and drag him down to kiss him. "I'm here, see? You're so good to me, you kept me safe," you say, kissing all over his face, tasting the coppery blood flecked across his skin but also the salt of his sweat. A lingering kiss to his jaw and a small nibble makes him growl, but he fists a hand in your hair and holds you in place so you keep working at his flesh. 

When you finally move away from it, he has a satisfyingly deep hickey - your mark on him. He so rarely lets you mark him... The thought barely has time to pass into your mind before his lips are on yours. You know your lover, your sweet, possessive demon - this isn't his usual passion. He's fiercer, less graceful, his teeth pressing hard against you even though he's clearly trying to be gentle. His hands stroke your back and he croons as he devours you, wings mantled and pinning you in your alcove, but he's still shaking and his eyes are still wild. 

You're panting when he finally pulls back enough for you to breathe. "My poor, sweet demon," you murmur against his lips, stroking his shoulders. You can feel his skin, hot and sticky but thankfully whole, under his ripped shirt. He groans and shudders as you graze a nipple with your questing fingers and you get an Idea. "Let me take care of my Lucifer," you say, unbuttoning his shirt slowly. He's regaining his usual clarity under your touch, watching as you lean forward and press kisses to his bared skin. "Please, daddy?" 

You're supremely gratified to hear him speak, no matter how rough his voice is. "Yes." 

You smooth the shirt off his shoulders and he absently rips it further to get it over his wings, letting it drop to the ground behind him. You grab a horn with one hand and use it to angle his face down and kiss him again, keeping it soft and sweet even as your other hand strokes his sides, feeling his hard, harsh breaths push his ribs against you. You stop at his chest and flick a finger over his nipple again, this time intentionally, and giggle as he takes control over the kiss and deepens it immediately. His breast fits oh so nicely into your hand, so warm and hard... you suckle his tongue and shift closer still, arching your hips to rub against him as you keep caressing his chest. 

Lucifer's hands grip at your hips and squeeze, a warning or a request, you're not sure. But when you release his tongue and turn your clever lips to his chest, he uses his grip to haul you up and wrap your legs against him. You whine, "I wasn't done with that!" 

He nips at your shoulder, still holding you out of reach of the nipple you'd been aiming for. Before you can complain further, though, he pushes up your shirt and dips his head, capturing yours instead. The suddenness of it makes you squeak and then you moan, cupping his head to you and petting his hair as he works at your soft flesh. He bites you without warning and you jump, tugging at his horns and saying, "Too hard, daddy! More gentle!" He rumbles in amusement around the flesh in his mouth before letting it go to tend to your other breast, nipping more gently at the underside. You hum and let your head fall back, eyes closing, as he finds your neglected nipple and sucks hard, tongue curling rhythmically. "'M supposed to take care of you, though," you pout, though your words lack any real vehemence. You roll your hips against the hardness you can feel pressing against his pants and he growls. He shifts your position and then grinds against you, his erection pressing against your clit through your clothes. "Daddy! I'm supposed to -" 

"No, I'm supposed to," he growls. "My job. Protect you, keep you safe... caress you, keep you _sated_." Another hard thrust makes you moan, nails digging into his shoulders as you try to pull him closer, pull him inside you. Damn clothes! 

"These are - hmph! Daddy! These are in the way!" You tug at your pants with one hand, trying to unbutton the fly. Lucifer laughs and one red claw slices through the cloth like a hot knife through butter. Knowing how sharp those claws are, how lethal they were on your assailants just minutes ago... how meticulously gentle the sharp point is as it tears your clothes and caresses your skin without so much as scratching you... "Fuck me, please," you beg, nipping at his jaw and throat. "Please daddy? I need you inside me..." 

The more he talks, the smoother his voice grows, though his touch retains the feral edge. "Is my baby really ready for me?" Lucifer muses, gliding the tips of his claws over the newly bared skin of your inner thighs. "I'm sure it was a shock, getting attacked like that... and then my sweet human tried to take care of me..." He curls his fingers and runs the backs of his claws along your skin, long, curved talons teasing as they swoop in towards your aching, needy flesh before gliding away again. You whine and reach for his wrist, ready to drag his hand to where you need it, but stop when he nips at your ear and growls in warning. 

Lucifer leaves a suck mark on your collarbone as he flexes his hand, letting you feel the smooth, hard curves of his claws. "But I want to tease you, sweetheart," Lucifer says, pulling back so he can take in the adorably frustrated look on your face as he starts stroking the crease of your inner thigh, so close to where you need him but still so far away. His face darkens suddenly as his gaze flicks over his shoulder. "I was supposed to be teasing you right now in a private box at the theater. You would have been a good girl for me, wouldn't you? The acoustics are sublime, any noises you made would echo around the whole place. I was looking forward to making you sing more sweetly than any diva on the stage. And instead..." His lip curls in disgust. "Those _imbeciles_ ruined it. My precious date with my precious human... they wanted to take you from me," Lucifer fumes. 

You don't want him agitated, you want him focused and aroused! You try to snap him out of it by leaning forward and nipping at his jaw. "You took care of it, Lucifer. My big, strong, protective demon," you say, nuzzling against his throat and pressing kisses against the hard pulse there. "You always take care of me, daddy... I wasn't ever scared because I knew you were right here with me." He heaves a shuddering sigh and tilts his head back, wordlessly giving you better access and soaking up your praise. "But daddy, now I'm all wet between my legs, all slick and needy and empty... won't you touch me, daddy? Won't you fuck me, please?" 

"Hmm, you have been a good girl for me, haven't you," he says, and you can feel the rumble of his voice through your lips on his throat. His claws brush ever closer to your clit and you kiss more frantically at his neck and jaw, whining and wiggling in encouragement. The pad of his thumb swipes over your clit and down to the entrance of your cunt, already creamy and clenching, so very ready for him. "Look how wet you are for me... A very good girl _indeed_ ," he breathes, tilting his head down to watch his claws skim between your folds, drawing a needy cry from you. He chuckles and flicks at your clit to see you squirm, heated eyes taking in your expression. His gaze locks on the way you bite your lip, trying to hold back a scream as he circles your clit with those clever, clever claws. Leaning down, he takes it between his fangs and tugs it from your grasp before kissing you deeply, pressing two fingers into you and stroking you from the inside out. When he pulls back, you're panting, close to the edge, and while his breathing is rough he unfortunately doesn't seem to be in any hurry. "But I thought you wanted to take care of me today. Isn't that what you told me? That you wanted to take care of your daddy?" 

"Yes, please," you say instantly. You need him to fuck you, but - you can't forget the feral rage that overtook him, the shades of which still lurk in his eyes. 

"Even if it means you don't come?" 

"Yes!" You barely keep from rolling your eyes at that. Duh, of course you want to care for him! Orgasms can happen whenever, but his unusual vulnerability? Top priority, no question. 

"Very well." He sounds almost displeased? Rude! But he sets you gently on your feet and plants his hands on the wall behind you, caging you in... and giving you free rein. "Do your worst, then." 

You nip pointedly at his lip before sliding your arms around him and hugging him tight, caressing the base of his wings as you press against him. "As if I'd ever give you anything but my best." You press soft kisses to his mouth as he stays stubbornly still for you. 

You trail kisses from his lips to his neck and shoulders before working down to his chest, pausing to flick your tongue over the racing heartbeat that belies his calm facade. "You took such good care of me," you repeat, raking your nails through the small feathers at the base of his wings, grinning against his chest when he rewards you with an involuntary shudder. "My strong, brave demon..." You suck a hickey onto his chest directly over his heart before nibbling your way to a nipple and latching on. You hear him hiss and his hips jerk against you. _Good - focus on me, demon_... 

"Such a broad chest... such strong shoulders... and these wings," you croon, switching from scratching to wrapping your hands around the base and tugging slightly in a way you know he loves. "Don't think I didn't notice the way you used your whole body to block them from even seeing me... The way these wings shelter me, wrap around me, keep me safe and warm..." You kiss and lap at his skin as you talk, tugging at his wings and stroking his back, keeping your motions smooth but firm. The tenseness in his spine is softening under your touch, though he still refuses to move. "Stubborn daddy," you tease, leaning up and kissing his mouth again before taking his nipple into your mouth and sucking hard. "You think I can't tell when you need me? When you need your sweet human to be good to you? I can be so good for you, just watch me..." 

You release his nipple with a pop and watch him barely suppress a sigh - or relief or disappointment, you're not sure which. But you're not done with him, not by a long shot. You turn and press a kiss against the corded strength of his arm next to your head, licking up the salt of his sweat from where he'd worked himself into a lather in his protective fury. "Hmm, I love your arms..." you say, reaching above your head to pull one of his hands away from the wall. "I'm always safe in your arms, always... and these," you continue, kissing his knuckles softly and then sucking at one clawed fingertip, "these keep me so safe... You defend me so well with your claws, don't you, daddy? I saw how good you are at using these as a weapon..." You kiss his fingertip before bringing his hand to your throat, pressing those claws around your neck. "But this? This is the safest I'll ever be, here in your claws. Nobody can protect me like you can." 

The look he's giving you is hooded, intense, and... uncomfortable? Keeping his hand at your throat with one hand, you use the other to cup his head and gently tug him down to kiss you. "See?" you whisper between long, deep kisses, stroking over his fingers around your throat and tugging lightly at his hair. "My big, fierce, wild demon man... my guardian demon, my lover, my daddy, my Lucifer..." each name for him is punctuated with kisses, as loving and tender and passionate as you can possibly make them. Maybe between the words and your kisses, your emotions will really sink in and he'll internalize them. 

You pull away from his lips to dust kisses across his cheeks, his eyelids, the bridge of his nose, the corner of his mouth - anywhere and everywhere. You press them all along his jaw, feeling the muscle tic. He stands still, eyes closed, but not relaxed... aroused, you can tell without even looking, since he presses against your belly, but not relaxed. You want to smooth away the tension in him, but can you when he refuses to release it? You nip at his ear and whisper, "I'm safe and sound and _all yours_ ." He groans and the hand at your throat squeezes gently. You smile against his skin and stroke your hands along his sides, feeling the quivering tension coiled within him. You nip and suck at his lip playfully as you stroke your thumbs over the skin of his hips, dipping them teasingly into the waistband of his pants. "Such focused protection," you murmur, kissing the tip of his nose to see if he smiles reflexively like he usually would. His lips twitch, but you're denied the full, sweet smile that he saves just for you and you pout slightly. "Such a fierce, proud demon... _my_ fierce proud demon." His eyes crack open to meet your gaze as you bite your lip and play coyly with the button on his pants. "But still not focused on me," you say, exaggerating your pout. "We're safe now - _I'm_ safe - so why don't you focus all that restless ferocity on me?" You lean forward and nip sharply at his neck. "I can take it, I promise." 

"My poor daddy is so tense," you tease, unbuttoning the first button and licking your lips at the sight of the skin you've revealed. His hand on your throat flexes, but when you meet his gaze, his crimson eyes are still more vigilant than aroused - harrumph! You flick open the next two buttons quickly and then linger, brushing your knuckles along his exposed skin and feeling his erection push against your hand. You return to lavishing attention on his chest, particularly those sensitive nipples, and prepare to settle in and wait him out. 

He must be more wound up then he lets on, because he nudges your hand with an insistent roll of his hips, making sure to stroke his length along your fingers with the motion. He huffs as he does and shifts closer to you. Not quite what you had in mind, but hey - he's communicating fairly clearly. You release the last few buttons slowly but steadily and then start stroking his shaft as soon as it springs free of the confines of his pants. He rumbles and lets his head drop forward, pressing his cheek against your temple as he watches you suck dark pink marks across his chest and smear the precome around the head of his cock. 

You croon as you focus on caressing the head of his cock, licking your lips and then his nipple. "You taste so good, daddy," you purr. "And you feel so good... in my hands, in my mouth, around my neck, around all of me... won't you hug me, daddy? With your wings, please, for your good girl? I mean, I am your good little human, aren't I?" He growls and his hips twitch as he fights back the urge to thrust against your hold, but his wings press close around you, soft black feathers cloaking you in his warmth and his touch and his scent. You sigh happily against his chest and press another soft kiss over his heartbeat. "Thank you, daddy." 

You nuzzle against his cheek and shoulder and watch as you finally start pumping his shaft in your hand. You keep your touch light even though you know he likes it almost painfully tight, slipping your other hand into his pants and cupping his ass as you do. "You're so hard, daddy," you say, adding a twisting motion that you'd seen drive him wild countless times before. "No wonder you're so tense right now... does it hurt, being this hard? Should your good little human kiss your cock and make it feel better?" Swiping your thumb along the vein beneath the crest, you revel in the hiss of his breath and the spurt of precome that you draw from him. He leans into you further, pressing you closer to the wall of his wings and the stone wall behind them. You worry that might be uncomfortable for him, but given how he groans and rolls his hips when he takes your weight on his wings you figure he doesn't mind. 

"Yes," he hisses, pushing his cock into your grip by rolling his hips, shifting against you even as his wings curl to pull you even closer to him. "Yes, use your mouth, baby... kiss your daddy and make him feel better... isn't that what you wanted? To make your daddy feel good?" Not quite, damn it. You resist the slight pressure he uses on your neck and raise up to kiss his mouth instead of dropping down to suck his cock the way he clearly expected. As soon as his lips meet yours he tries to take control of the kiss and devour your mouth, but you have other plans. You pull back and close your mouth to his questing tongue each time he tries to surge forward and claim your mouth, only returning to the kiss when he subsides. He growls in frustration as you force a sweet, almost chaste kiss upon him despite his best efforts to the contrary. Your hand never stills in its spiraling, pumping caress, but you slow down substantially to make sure his focus is where you want it. "No, daddy," you say sternly, pulling back enough to meet his gaze squarely. "I don't want to make you feel _good_ . If all you needed was good, then all you'd need is your hand. I want you to feel the way you make me feel. I want you to feel _loved_." 

The sheer vulnerability that flashes across his face makes your heart melt. This time when he leans in for a kiss, he doesn't try to take over. You reward his good behavior with a tighter grip on his cock as you stroke it and a lick against his lips. His mouth, usually so tight as he clenches his jaw with frustration against the world, is so soft under your lips. He opens his mouth easily, eagerly, to allow you entrance even as his hips buck against your hand and his wings pull you greedily closer. 

His hand around your throat strokes gently, his claw tips rasping against your skin in a way that makes you shiver. He moans as you thumb the head of his cock, pressing the slit and feeling the pulse of precome. You pull away from his mouth and press a sweet kiss to his jaw. "Be vocal, daddy, I wanna hear how I make you feel," you tell him. He blinks, the haze of lust clearing slightly as he focuses on your words, and then nods. 

"If that's what my baby wants, then of course," he rumbles. He presses a quick kiss to your temple when you smile sweetly at him. Then you drop to your knees and lick his shaft and he groans, hand fisting in your hair. 

"Ah, fuck, _yes_ ," he hisses, hips bucking helplessly. His wings shift to keep you wrapped in his feathers, the hand not wrapped in your hair bearing his weight as he leans heavily on the stone wall. "Yes, fuck, you're so good to me, darling," he says as you suckle lightly at the tip of his cock. Your hand on his ass kneads at him, feeling the heavy muscle there move as he thrusts again. He's careful not to jam himself into your mouth despite his restless movements. You reward his thoughtfulness by pressing a wet kiss to his shaft as it slides against your mouth. 

You pull a breathy grunt from him when you open your mouth and take the thick head of his cock inside. You don't bother using the other to control the depth of his thrusts, trusting your demon to know what you can handle. Instead, you cup his balls in your palm as you suck him in, stroking the tight flesh as you lap at the corona in your mouth. "Fuck, sweetheart," he gasps, using the hand in your hair to angle your mouth on him, guiding you to take him deeper. "My good little human, hah, you take me so well... look at how pretty your lips are, wrapped around my cock... you know exactly what I need, don't you? Even when I don't want to admit it." He rocks into your mouth carefully, wings shifting restlessly around you, whining as you release his balls to cup his ass with both hands. 

You tug at his pants until they're halfway down his thighs, leaving him bare to your ministrations, and then start working up and down the half of his cock that you can take, listening to his ragged breathing and sultry words to guide your actions. A hard suck here that makes him gasp, releasing the suction while he's pressed against your throat to make him whine, flicking your tongue across the vein to make his hips stutter... "Yes, love, like that," he rasps. Your dig your nails into the flesh of his ass and his head falls back, throat bared in helpless pleasure, and you delight at seeing the marks you made there earlier. "Yes, harder, use your nails," he orders and you oblige. "Fuck! Dearest, I wish - hnf! - wish you had claws like mine, I wish you could claw me bloody - yes..." his head tips forward again and crimson eyes with slitted pupils blown wide lock gaze with yours. "Touch yourself," he demands. "You're so wet - your mouth is so wet - stroke that pretty cunt for me, won't you, sweetheart? Make yourself feel good, I want... ah! I want to feel you moaning around my cock." 

You whine in disappointment but obediently take one hand off his ass - his very glorious ass, which you do not get to fondle anywhere near as much as you deserve, damn it - and slide it through your slick folds. You don't intend to graze your clit, figuring you'll just stroke your entrance a few times and sink your talons nails back into his butt, but when you do it pulls a muffled sob from you. You've been so focused on him, on his pleasure and his state of mind, that your arousal had almost slipped your mind. " _Yes,_ " Lucifer snarls, hand clenching in your hair and hips bucking, hearing the embarrassingly loud, wet sounds made when you press two fingers deep inside yourself and grind your clit against the palm of your hand. "Fuck, yes, there you go, baby," he croons, pulling you closer, thrusting a little deeper as your open throated moan leaves him room to slide further into your mouth. "Make yourself come... don't even think about it," he warns, seeing your brows furrow at his command. "You _can_ make yourself come, don't try to tell me otherwise." You roll your hips to press your fingers deeper, your clit harder, and moan around his cock. 

You carefully pull away so his cock slips from your mouth so you can pout. "I can't, though," you say breathlessly. "I can't, I need you to do it... please, daddy, my fingers aren't big enough." You keep working your cunt with one hand and beg for his touch as your mouth slips along his shaft to suck his sac into your mouth. 

He growls and shakes under your ministrations. Despite that, his voice is firm. "No. You come on your fingers or you don't come." You pull back and pout at him, no longer rolling your hips. 

"Fine," you snap, seeing that he doesn't intend to retract his statement. You pull your fingers from your wet pussy and inspect the slickness coating them before glancing back at Lucifer. The smirk that stretches across your face feels wicked. "I can't come on my fingers... but I bet daddy can," you purr. His eyes widen and he stiffens, but your slick fingers slip between his legs and spear into his ass, pressing deep to find that spot - he groans and you press your face to his thigh to hide your smug smile. 

You press a kiss to the crease of his thigh as you work your fingers over that blindingly sensitive spot, looking up to see the blush painting his cheeks. You scissor your fingers to stretch him open in the way he likes and he makes that whining growl that you adore. "This... is not what I meant," he pants, thrusting his hips back to work his ass open on your fingers. 

"I know," you say smugly, pressing another kiss to his pelvis before leaving a tiny, teasing lick on the base of his shaft. He hisses, glaring down at you with wild eyes. 

"Fucking tease," he spits, but the trickle of precome that spills from his slit and glistens on his shaft lets you know how much he loves it. You give him another tiny lick, this time under the head of his cock, and work a third finger into him. "I - will - get - you - hah! Ah! For this!" He swears, shifting his legs apart and giving you better access. You giggle and take the head of his cock into your mouth again, sucking it sweetly while rubbing three fingers hard inside him. He swears and groans and jerks as if he can't decide whether to thrust forward into your mouth or back onto your fingers... and then stills completely. You pause and glance up, lips still wrapped around his cock but face questioning, as he turns his attention away and goes deadly quiet. Over the thundering of your heartbeat in your ears, you hear the distant sound of booted feet tramping along the cobbled street. Multiple pairs of booted feet. Shit, you just got to the fun part, you don't want to stop for another massacre! 

"Lucifer," you hiss, trying to head off whatever is about to happen, and then you hear a very familiar squawk of outrage. Was that... Mammon? Two voices answer - one is Satan and the other... Whatever Satan said, he evokes a melodic chuckle and you realize that Simeon is there, too. Shit, shit, shit! You don't have to worry about a massacre now - maybe - hopefully - but Lucifer, caught by his friend and brothers with his pants down? That's a recipe for an equally messy disaster and also a lot of huffing and self-denial from Lucifer after it blows over. You don't want to deal with him attacking Mammon (and Satan gleefully joining the fray) out of embarrassment and you really, _really_ don't want to wait a month or so for him to loosen up so you can get laid. You scramble to your feet within the confines of Lucifer's wings, ignoring how he grumbles and tightens them around you, tugging your fingers from his ass and trying to pull up his pants, trying to avert certain catastrophe. 

You can see their shadows now, cast long across the ground by dim and infrequent streetlights. You glance up at Lucifer, about to whisper that they might pass you by... but the look on his face stops you. That's not the look of someone panicked or horrified or even annoyed. Instead, there's a very sly cast to his features that you don't trust _at all_. "Whatever you're planning, don't - " His crimson gaze flicks down to scan your expression before turning back to the encroaching shadows. Before you can finish your hushed reproach, they draw level with your street and you clam up, hoping to avoid detection. Lucifer chooses that moment to sweep you off your feet, wrap your legs around his hips, and grind his cock against your clit. "Lucifer!" 

Your shocked cry echoes just as well as that pebble did earlier... and in its wake leaves a pregnant silence. Lucifer's face, pressed against your throat, is split with a wicked grin. You can feel against your pulse before he drags his teeth across the sensitive skin there, making you gasp. Your belated attempts to muffle the sound just make you choke on air and your face burns with embarrassment. You can't bring yourself to look at the three figures standing across the street from you - hell, you wouldn't even look Lucifer in the eye if you could, how are you supposed to face your friends, two of whom you live with? Inside your mind you're screaming with agonizing mortification. Outside it, you're hyper aware of the puff of Lucifer's breath over your skin and the fraught atmosphere. 

Simeon, bless him, is the first of the trio to break the silence. "Are those... bodies?" he asks, sounding worried. 

Oh, right. The scattered remains of the corpses. The ones you'd _forgotten about_ because you were so hot to trot and sucking off your boyfriend with your fingers up his ass. You whine under your breath before steeling yourself and replying, "We're fine, Simeon, there was just a, uh... well, there was an altercation. But neither of us is hurt!" Your voice drops so you can hiss in Lucifer's ear, "At least, no one is hurt **_yet_ **..." He nips at your throat before pulling away enough to smirk at you... and then begin turning towards the others. "Don't you dare!" You thump him hard on his shoulder, panic rising. 

"Are ya sure you're alright?" Mammon calls. 

"Couldn't be better," Lucifer purrs, rolling his hips to grind against your core. You bite hard against your knuckles, trying to muffle it, but the moan slips out regardless. 

"We, ah, we'll just be... well, why don't we... go," Simeon trails off, pulling at Satan's arm and looking ready to throttle Mammon and probably also Lucifer. You would love to join him, except Lucifer has just cupped your breast with one hand and started toying with your nipple. You bury your face against his shoulder and pant harshly to avoid screaming when he teases your entrance with the head of his cock, making your cunt clench and your thighs shake with sheer need - 

"Feel free to stay," Lucifer says, sliding his cock through your folds and over your clit again. "See how it's done. I'm sure you don't mind, do you, baby?" 

Mammon circles around Lucifer, getting a good view from the side, and whistles appreciatively. "Hot damn, Luce, you got her _drenched_." He eases closer and Lucifer turns and snaps his fangs at him in warning. Mammon skitters back, hands raised. 

"I said you could look, not touch," he growls. 

You thump Lucifer on the shoulder again, ignoring his retaliating nip. "Be nice to Mammon!" 

"I've let another demon see you, soft and wet and oh so willing, your cunt trying to suck my cock in and milk me dry, and he's still alive. I'd say that counts as nice," Lucifer growls, taking your throat between his teeth and biting firmly but without breaking the skin. 

"Hey, ya never answered him earlier," Mammon says, albeit from a safer distance back by Simeon and Satan. "You really ok with us sticking around, sunshine?" 

You bury your face against Lucifer's shoulder again, clutching at him for courage as you answer. "I - yeah, I'm OK with it, if you guys are," you manage before glancing at Simeon and Satan. Simeon has a hand over his eyes, but you could see a sliver of blue behind his gloved fingers... and a suspicious bulge in his white trousers. Satan, on the other hand, looks... wistful? But when he meets your gaze it morphs into something terrifying and familiar. The last time you saw that expression, Satan had gotten hold of a whoopee cushion and put it under Lucifer's student council seat. 

_Oh no._

Satan holds your gaze for a long moment, tail swishing behind him like a cat watching fish in a tank. Then he winks. 

_Oh no..._

"I must say, I'm disappointed," Satan drawls, "I expected better of you, human... now, Lucifer fucking in a back alley like a cheap hooker? Yeah, that I expected. But you? Shame on you. I never took you for such a slut." He pauses and you feel the tension knotting Lucifer's shoulders as his temper flares. "Of course, if I knew you were such a slut, I would have taken you before. Now that I know - " Lucifer's snarl drowns out the rest of his words, thankfully. 

You grab hold of Lucifer's horns and hang on, hoping to keep him in place - partially because you do like the little shit and don't want to see Satan slaughtered, partially because his body is preserving your modesty here, and partially because damn it, you're _still_ waiting to get fucked - but you manage to glare at Satan and shoot him the bird while you wrangle the angry demon in your arms. Before you can get a word in over Lucifer's snarl, someone else steps in. 

" _Satan_ ," Simeon snaps, voice hard and fast as a whip, "that is _enough_." 

All of you freeze - Lucifer's voice drops from a roar to a grumble as he wraps you even more protectively within his embrace, Mammon stops dead, one foot raised from where he was about to kick Satan in the shins, and Satan stares wide-eyed and slack-jawed at Simeon. Belatedly, you remember that Lucifer isn't the only one who was an archangel. 

Before he can finish that sentence, Simeon has Satan slammed onto his knees, head wrenched back by a grip on his horn and one booted foot pinning Satan's bony tail to the cobblestones. You briefly feel a flash of sympathy for Satan's abused tail - it's very sensitive, as you found out when you accidentally sat on it once on the couch, and that was with cushions and your comfortably padded rear, not a hard sole and the harder stone of the road - but then the dim streetlights gleam off blindingly white feathers and you're no longer thinking of Satan. Simeon's wings are beautiful, limned in platinum and flared with feathers lifted to make him loom even larger. He has six wreathing him like holy fire and divine wrath and you wonder if that's what Lucifer's wings looked like before he fell. 

"I apologize, little lamb," Simeon says flatly, his arm wrapping around Satan in a wrestler's hold and hand cupping his mouth, "for the vile filth Satan spewed. I assure you, your activities with any lover, in any location, could never demean you or diminish your worth." Satan watches you with wide, startled eyes as Simeon holds him in place. Mammon coughs. 

"Yeah, what he said," he agrees. "Y'know, I'm thinking maybe we should just go now," Mammon says, edging away from Lucifer and Simeon both. 

"No, stay," Lucifer commands. Mammon freezes. 

"After all, I haven't yet shown you how beautiful my human is when she's overcome with pleasure... and it will be the only time you'll ever see it. I'd hate for you to miss out," Lucifer says, voice silky and menacing. 

Mammon gulps. "Uh, well, if - " 

"We would be delighted," Simeon says, "to accept your gracious welcome." His eyes twinkle with a little mischief as he meets your gaze, a hot flush painting his cheeks but his stance steadfast. 

"Excellent," Lucifer purrs, and suddenly hikes you up higher against the wall. 

Lucifer, for all that he intends to show you off, is still possessive and coordinated. He tugs your shirt down with his teeth as he lifts you, making sure that your audience doesn't see any more of you than they would at RAD. You adjust your grip on his horn and thread the fingers of your other hand through his hair, looking down at him and trying to get your bearings from your sudden change in altitude. "Lucifer?" Your voice is breathy and a little less steady than you'd like, but at least you're not tongue-tied. Mortified, aroused, a little incredulous, but thankfully not incoherent. 

"That's not what you've been calling me, kitten," Lucifer says, nuzzling at you and pressing a hot, open-mouthed kiss to the soft flesh of your belly. There's a hint of teeth in his kiss and a hot gleam in his eyes as they lock on yours. Mammon makes a strangled noise and when you glance at him he's got his hand clapped over his eyes as if embarrassed for you - and he still hasn't heard you call Lucifer "daddy". You press your lips tightly together and glare down at Lucifer, determined to make sure none of them hear it (or hear it again) tonight. "No? I'll get it out of you one way or another," he warns, tone light as he licks his lips and raises you even higher. "Just see if I don't." Then he dips his head to suck your clit into his mouth and you almost scream at the sudden sensation, hooking your legs over his shoulder and clutching his horns to pull him closer. 

You've been so close to the edge for so long that Lucifer easily pushes you into your first climax. Lucifer is relentless, continuing to suck hard as you bow over his head and sob through the pleasure, prolonging the exquisite sensations until you can barely breathe. Then he pulls back just a little, laving at your oversensitive flesh and noisily lapping up your juices, letting the unbearably intense sensations ebb for a few breaths before capturing your clit and tossing you over again. 

His hands, strong, clawed, and flecked with the blood of your attackers, pin you securely in place for his mouth to plunder at his leisure, no matter how hard you twist and writhe, trying to buck your hips and dislodge him for a moment so you can breathe, just breathe - he doesn't let you. You're not allowed to get your bearings, not when he has his mouth on the most sensitive part of you, nipping and licking and sucking like his life depends on it - your breathless moans and whimpers just make him redouble his effort. His body shifts beneath you and you look down, watch as he rolls his hips in a futile effort to find the stimulation he needs, and you whine brokenly as the realization pushes you over _again._ A moan echoes your cry, but it's not Lucifer's - you would feel it rumble through his chest and thrum against your clit - and you drag your gaze up to see Mammon, biting his lip and palming himself roughly through his jeans. 

Lucifer's mouth drove you out of your mind - you'd entirely forgotten your audience until hearing Mammon. Even now, with your gaze locked with his, you barely register his presence, too focused on Lucifer. You huff and gasp and claw at Lucifer's head and shoulders, his wings where they're in reach, trying to get him to stop, to give you more, to keep him in place, to escape - 

Something's wrong, you realize faintly as Lucifer growls and ruts against the air. Normally he'd be three knuckles deep in your cunt by now, finding and torturing your clit through the walls of your pussy and from the glans in his mouth. Instead, his hands flex restlessly on your hips, claws scraping and pricking but never drawing blood, as he works both of you - and your audience, judging by Mammon's muttered cursing - into a frenzy. 

"Please," you whine, raking your nails over his scalp at the base of his horns. He shudders beneath you, just as you knew he would, but makes no move to fill you. "Lucifer! I - please, I need - !" He growls harshly against your flesh and pulls back enough to meet your gaze, his lips red and shiny with your slick. 

"You know what I want," he pants. "Give me what I want... then you get what you need." 

Your hands clench hard in his hair and you shake your head, cheeks burning. "I - I can't, I can't _say_ that, not... not _now_ ," you reply, glancing at your audience. Mammon has his hand in his jeans now, leaning against the wall opposite you and panting hard as he thrusts into his grip. Satan is flushed as red as you feel, tail alternately lashing restlessly and curling around Simeon's thigh as his studies your pleasure with rapt attention. And Simeon... he won't meet your gaze for more than a few seconds at a time, but his wings are held proud and his hands clench rhythmically at Satan as he holds him pinned. It's clearly no longer necessary to hold Satan back, but given the intensity of his expression as he watches you and Lucifer, you wonder if he isn't using the excuse to hold himself back. 

Your gaze jerks back to the demon between your thighs when he bites you sharply, clearly jealous for your attention. Something dark flashes in Lucifer's gaze - not anger or disappointment but something vaguely displeased, decidedly resolute, and extremely possessive. "Are you sure?" he asks, voice silky and menacing. You shiver hard despite your attempts to stand firm in your decision. 

"I _can't,_ " you whine, covering your face with your hands. He growls and shifts - you clamp your legs tighter around him instinctively, even though his hands hold you securely. He bites you again for the perceived insult. 

"Very well, dearest," he says. "But you should know, I have no intention of filling your needy cunt in any way until you say it. And," he purrs, lips trailing up to your stomach to place a gentle kiss on the skin exposed by your shirt where it's ridden up, " _I_ have millennia of patience. You don't." He nips at the curve of you hip before diving back to your clit and sucking remorselessly. 

You thought the brief respite would make it easier to bear his ministrations. Oh, how very wrong you were. It's too intense, a pleasure so sharp it cuts at you, but kicking and writhing gets you nowhere. Gibbering half-voiced pleas pour from your lips, muffled by your fisted hand as you use the other to try and tug him away by his horn. Your efforts, though earnest, are feeble. He pushes you over the edge _again_ and suddenly the switch flips from painful pleasure to pleasurable pain. "Too much, I can't, Lucifer, fuck, please, no more," you sob, but the wracking sensations drive the air from your lungs. You can barely hear yourself. 

Demon hearing is more acute... unfortunately. Lucifer rumbles in amusement, adding another layer of sensation to the tide that's already crushing your mind and ravaging your body. 

"Lucifer, our little lamb isn't breathing properly," Simeon says. There's the faintest echo of concern in his statement, but when you pry your eyes open (and when the hell had you clenched them shut?) his expression is distinctly predatory. His wings flex, pulling in to a mantle you're familiar with - Lucifer does that when he wants to shield you from the outside world and force you to focus on him alone. You wonder if that's what Simeon wants to do... and if it's you he wants to monopolize or Lucifer... or both of you. 

You hiccup as you stare at him, spasming through another orgasm, breath coming as light and fast as a hummingbird. "Please," you mouth, not sure who you're talking to at this point... or what you're even asking for. 

You're so _empty_ . It's a stark contrast to the burn of painfully intense pleasure in your clit, your weeping cunt clenching hard on _nothing_. Lucifer is, as always, as good as his word. He occasionally flicks his tongue across your slick, grasping entrance, exposed by how wide your legs are spread, but he never lets so much as the tip enter you. His fingers press claw marks and bruises on your hips and your ass and your thighs as they rove over you, but don't even approach your soaked folds. It's as if he knows better than to open himself to that much temptation. And his cock - you watch the muscles of his back ripple in response to each involuntary thrust of his hips, wings clenching tight around you as he ruts into the empty air. 

"Let go, little lamb," Simeon croons. His gaze flits between your face, Lucifer's buried between your thighs, and Lucifer's pistoning hips. You can only imagine how incredible the view is from where he stands... side note to yourself you won't remember, fuck lucifer in front of a mirror some time so you can watch that tight ass flex... You whine through another interminable climax, breath soughing jaggedly. "You know what he wants. You know what you need. Is it so bad to compromise? To bend a little to his will, so that he will bend to yours?" 

His words echo in your head as you try to claw through the fog of overwhelming sensations. You sob on a hard breath and try to heave your body away from Lucifer's mouth. "Sorry," you wheeze. "Sorry, sorry, please, daddy, fuck me, please!" 

Lucifer smirks. You feel it against your flesh, cruel and triumphant. He pulls back slightly but keeps his lips against your sensitive folds as he purrs, "Louder, kitten. I can hardly hear you." You whine and meet his crimson gaze, but despite his obvious pleasure he remains unmoving. 

"Please, please, fuck me daddy - I need you to fuck me hard, please, I'm so empty it hurts, please, daddy - ah! Fuck! Yes!" 

There's that stomach flipping sensation of free fall for a heartbeat before he spears into you. You've fallen directly from his mouth into a hard thrust and you bury your face against his chest and sob with relief. He purrs as he pumps into you, hard and fast. It's too much in an entirely different way than his mouth on your clit - you've been so empty for so long and now his girth rends you thoroughly. To make matters worse, he grinds his hips with each inward lunge to press hard against your oversensitive clit. You give a wordless, almost voiceless wail as you come again, cunt clenching like a vise around his cock. You hear a guttural groan in response, but not from Lucifer. 

Lucifer grips you tight, hands kneading at your ass, claws pricking, and holds you high enough that you can easily see over his shoulder as he makes long, lunging thrusts into your needy cunt. You can barely bring yourself to peek at your audience, face flaming even as desperate cries of " _yes_ " and " _please_ " and " _more, daddy_ " fall from your lips. He fucks each sound out of you with incredible smugness, smirking into hot kisses on your neck and huffing through satisfied chuckles. Finally, you manage to flit your gaze away from Lucifer's, burning with triumph, and land on Simeon. 

Simeon's expression is a mix of faint amusement and yearning lust. He watches the motions of Lucifer's whole-bodied thrusting and his wings rustle restlessly. You moan as Lucifer purposely thrusts against your too-sensitive clit and that achingly needy spot in your cunt that sends you into another orgasm, grinding there to prolong it until you're dizzy with the pleasure, and watch Simeon flush and bite his lip in response. His body jerks as he meets your gaze, clearly not expecting your attention, and grins wryly at you. One brow arches and he mouths " _Daddy?_ " with that damnable cool smirk that you've seen on Lucifer's face so many times before. You scowl and flip him the bird before another hard thrust knocks you off balance and has you clutching at Lucifer's shoulders with both hands, nails raking furrows into his pale skin. 

You groan and your thighs clench hard around Lucifer's hips, feet digging into his back and the sensitive scars where his third set of wings once were. Lucifer growls, a sound that pulls into a deep-throated groan of feral satisfaction. It's echoed, much to your surprise, by Mammon. 

The second eldest is no longer leaning against the wall across from you. His pants hang loose around his thighs and he has crept closer, cock in hand. He plants his feet and strokes himself roughly, cock seeping precome as you watch in wide-eyed fascination as he watches you and Lucifer. Unlike the others, Mammon has maintained his human form, but a hint of fangs peeks at you as he grits his teeth and his lip curls in a rictus of pleasure. "Oh," you gasp, and he stares at you with a cocky grin as he focuses on the head of his cock, milking it firmly in time to Lucifer's thrusts. He winks at you saucily and you bury your face against Lucifer's neck. How in the hell are you supposed to look at your best friend ever again after this?! 

"He knows better," Lucifer rumbles, mistaking your quandary entirely. "He knows this is a one-time deal and that he'll never see you like this ever again. None of them," he says, turning slightly to bare his fangs at your audience, "will ever try to touch what's _mine._ They know better than to try to steal daddy's precious little human, don't they?" There's a suspicious choking sound in response. You think that might have been Satan... do you have the mental fortitude to look at him and find out? 

You glance at him briefly to make sure Satan hasn't spontaneously combusted before burying your face against Lucifer's shoulder and steeling yourself for a longer look. Nothing is on fire, which was a distinct possibility... with dread in your heart and mortification in your head and Lucifer's cock in your pussy, you drag your gaze back to Satan. 

Simeon has his fingers curled inside Satan's mouth, preventing him from speaking and somewhat distorting his features. White fangs gleam against black gloves, but what catches your attention most is startled, embarrassed green eyes and the deep red flush painting Satan's cheeks. 

A flicking behind him draws your attention from the mortification on his face - which, honestly, buddy, _same_ , you only wanted a date with your demon, not to put on a semi-public sex show - to the agitated motion of his tail. It wraps around his own hips for a moment, bringing your attention to the hard-on and the wet spot in his pants before you jerk your gaze away. You stare at him, incredulous, and he gives a sheepish, chagrined cringe before pointedly looking away, ears growing even redder. He leans back against Simeon, though, and you realize that he's rocking his hips in a subtle imitation of your own rhythmic circling as you meet Lucifer's pace. 

You press your face against Lucifer's neck again and bite him, hard. This was way more than you needed to know about your friends' sexual predilections... and way, way, way more than you ever wanted them to know about your own! Lucifer chuckles and his claws rake purposely over your ass as he teasingly pulls your ass cheeks apart and slips a finger towards it. You squeak around the flesh in your mouth and clench hard around him, which makes him moan and press more insistently into you. 

"No?" Lucifer asks, voice teasing. "You usually like this. Don't you want to feel full all over, baby?" You whine in embarrassment and lust and bite him harder. His finger slides down between your folds instead, caressing the stretched lips of your pussy as his cock shuttles into you. You wriggle impatiently against him, flinching when you inadvertently press your clit too hard against him. Releasing his flesh - and taking a second to lick over the indentation of your teeth, quite satisfied at having marked him again and very publicly - you pant and try to pull his hand back to your ass. He was right, as much as you'd hate to admit it, it would feel amazing... Lucifer tuts and won't budge his fingers from where they frame your cunt. "Use your words, kitten." 

You hear someone moan but refuse to look to see who it might be. A breathy whine builds in your throat and Lucifer purrs in response, slowing his thrusts and stroking the stretched lips of your cunt. The squelching sounds louder as he slows, making you cover your face and whine louder. Muffled behind your hands, even though you know the insufferable prick will make you say it again, you whimper, "Please fuck me with your fingers, too, daddy, I need you to fill me up..." 

His fingers slide back to your asshole and tap it teasingly. "What was that, kitten? We couldn't hear you," he croons. You snarl and slap his shoulder with one hand. 

"You heard me," you hiss, blushing so hard you're shocked you don't see a red haze. _We_ indeed - he wants you to remember that he's putting on a show for your audience and he's willing to hold your pleasure and his hostage to get the performance he wants from you. 

Red-faced and needy, frustrated and empty since the jerk has stopped with just the head of his cock inside you, you bite him. Hard. You purposely rake your (sadly blunt) nails from his shoulders down his back, clawing his scars. He thrusts deeply and instinctively in response, hips twitching and breath hissing between clenched fangs. You knead at the sensitive flesh there before returning to the lower wing joints and grabbing them roughly. You yank at them like they're handlebars. 

"I won't repeat myself this time, daddy," you growl against his shoulder. "Fill me up and fuck me hard, daddy. _Now_. Or you don't get the strap for the next two weeks." 

You hear Simeon chuckle and Mammon say "get 'im, tiger!" You hear Satan eke out a choked moan. But mostly what you hear is the guttural growl that thrums through him as he obediently invades you from all sides, his tongue slipping into your mouth in a fierce kiss as his fingers and cock thrust in tandem. _Finally!_

He overflows you, your senses and your body and your heart and you could weep with relief and pleasure. Closing your eyes, you focus on the feel and the taste of him, his heat, the rhythm of his cock surging into you, his fingers pressing on the thin wall of flesh between your ass and your stretched cunt - 

The orgasm hits you like a mack truck, the impact just as brutal and incredible as the pace your demon sets. Wrapped around you with wings and arms, held tight in the clasp of your shaking thighs, your fingers ruffling the small feathers at the base of his wings, he has you soaring and keeps you grounded. You groan into his kiss as sensation washes through you. Panting hard for a minute, you eventually manage to gather in your reeling senses and start matching his pace, smirking against his lips as he whines as you begin riding him as he fucks into you. 

You pull back from his kiss enough to nip at his jaw and kiss his neck, one hand releasing a wing to slip inside his pants - fuck, he's still wearing pants? oh, well - and grab his ass, giving it a hearty squeeze. "Yes, fuck, finally," you gasp, nuzzling against his face affectionately even as you squeeze around his cock and his fingers. "You're so good at fucking me, daddy... and god, you're so cute - you get so worked up over my strap, don't you, daddy? You love it when I fuck you so deep, just like I do... Love having me pound that cute ass of yours, hearing you whine for me... _fuck_!" He bites your shoulder hard, growling, but the roll of his hips drags you over the edge again and no matter how red his ears are, he's still rock hard inside you. "My - ah - my cute daddy," you croon, resting your forehead against his and staring into his eyes. Groans and hums and suspicious fabric rustling sounds from your audience, but you've only got eyes for Lucifer. "My cute demon... my Lucifer. And I'm yours, aren't I?" 

You can see him slipping back into that feral haze as you speak, slit pupils blown wide enough to almost overtake the crimson, the claws of one hand needling at your flesh even as the fingers inside you are so careful with your tender mortal flesh - he growls and grinds his pelvis against your clit with the next stroke, making you gasp and jerk. It's too sensitive and he knows it and he gives you a fang-filled smirk as he torments you with it, growling, " _Mine._ " 

His pace becomes both uneven and inhuman and you no longer try to match him, simply hanging on and kissing him and caressing every inch you can get your hands on as he surges into you again and again. Wet slapping sounds echo as he fucks you, beautifully underscored by his groans and growls and whines and your own breathy cries, muffled against his neck or shoulder as you kiss him all over. Pleasure tugs you under again and again, but each time you resurface from the haze he's still fucking you with undiminished ferocity. Trying to milk him with your cunt draws hissing breaths and agonized expressions from him, making his hips stutter, but each time he just bites you and works harder. 

"F-fill me up," you say, shuddering as you come again. "Please? I want you to come in me, give me your knot, please - unf! Daddy!" The thrust after you ask for his knot is so strong it actually hurts some and it jolts you higher in his arms. He steadies you and thrusts slightly more gently, but holds you in this new, higher position. It's a little confusing until you realize it puts your chin at shoulder height, giving you an excellent position to observe your audience from... and your audience an equally clear view of your face. You immediately duck, pressing your face against his shoulder and whining. He croons soothingly and nudges your head back up. 

"Don't be shy, lamb," Simeon says, fingers still curled into Satan's mouth though the other hand is now fisted in Satan's gold hair to hold him close. "Ask for what you want, I'm sure he'll be happy to give it to you." 

You can't meet Simeon's gaze or Mammon's - much less Satan's - but Lucifer won't let you pull away from his shoulder enough to meet his. _Damn._ Biting your lip, grunting as he hits a particularly good spot, you start to talk. "Please... daddy, please fuck me," you gasp as he grinds hard on that spot and slips another finger inside of you, lips quirked where he presses kisses to your throat. "Ah! Shhh... show them... who I belong to... who you belong to... fill me up with your knot and your come, please, daddy, won't you please breed me? Mark me as yours?" 

His growl rumbles through you, so loud it makes your head spin, as though you're hearing it in stereo... With his next upward lunge, you can feel the flaring knot pressing against your walls. Thank fuck, he's finally released his iron control and is letting himself come! Then his growl morphs into a snarl and you realize you were hearing two growls - Mammon growls and sways as he comes, head thrown back and blue eyes peering at you through heavy lids as spurt after spurt of seed coats the stones in front of him. You squeak, surprised, and he gives a husky chuckle as he pants and stumbles back to lean on the wall. Lucifer nips at your throat as if to regain your full attention and starts grinding into you rather than thrusting, pressing hard on your poor clit as his cock swells inside you, knot growing steadily. 

The first spurt of come jets from him while his knot is barely half full, hot enough that you feel it inside you. "Yes, yes, fuck, daddy, harder, more," you moan, raking his back with your nails as you writhe against him, pinned between his hard chest and his wings cushioning you from the hard wall. He laps at your throat lazily, incongruous to the frantic pace of his hips grinding against yours. Simeon hums with obvious appreciation as Lucifer shudders hard, his muscles jumping under your fingers and wings contracting around you. You can feel some of his spend leaking out of your cunt somehow, despite how widely you were already stretched around him and how much more widely he stretches you now. As he grinds into you with his cock, he begins thrusting his fingers in your ass again, pressing against your sensitive flesh and his own swelling knot. 

No matter how many times you take Lucifer's knot, you never become used to it. He tips his head back and growls deep in his chest as the knot pushes you open even wider, stretching your cunt tighter. You cry out, barely able to breathe, feeling him so deep inside you could swear that he's reaching through you - "Yes, fuck, daddy, more, yes, I love you, yes, _Lucifer_ -" 

Oh, that's you babbling, isn't it? Your vision seems glazed and you can't fully focus on what you're seeing, but you notice something shining green and stare blankly at it as Lucifer forces you open on his knot and unravels you from the inside out. 

Lucifer croons, deep and wordless and adoring, as he comes inside you, knotted tight and sealing every drop in your cunt where it belongs. He continues to grind inside you, rubbing your clit and shifting the knot against your sensitive entrance, making you mewl and melt against him. His fingers in your ass have slowed to an almost contemplative stroking that follows the curve of his knot through your silky flesh. Lucifer turns his head to press a soft, open mouthed kiss to your temple before he begins to purr. Draped over him as you are now, you feel it as much as hear it - if it didn't rattle your nerves around yet more pleasure, it would be intensely soothing... 

You twitch hard as his come floods you, going from slick and pleasant to slightly overfull to making you cramp slightly as your belly distended some with the sheer volume of it. "Daddy..." you whine, shifting even more as it becomes increasingly uncomfortable. "I have you," he rasps, moving his hand from your hip to stroke your back soothingly. "Too much," you mutter, eyes crossing as another grinding thrust makes you come around his knot again. "Too... too much, daddy, but... I don't want to spill any, want you to stay like this..." 

Lucifer croons and rocks his knot to milk you for more pleasure, hand moving from your back to cup your swollen belly. "So good for me, darling," he rasps, peppering kisses along your neck and shoulders. "So beautiful, so full... and not a drop wasted. Don't worry, kitten, I won't let you spill any of my seed. You've worked so hard to get it, after all..." 

There's a high whine at that - and for once it's not you. With great effort you blink and refocus your gaze and realize that you've been staring at Satan the whole time Lucifer knotted you and pumped streams of come into you. You flush hotly, feeling like you could probably fry an egg on your head, but kneading at Lucifer just makes him chuckle and nip at you. 

It's not greatly consoling, but Satan doesn't seem to be in any better a state. The blissful relaxation on your features is entirely absent on his and you feel vaguely sorry to see that he's still agonizingly tense, but his mouth works at Simeon's fingers and the wet spot on his pants has grown quite a bit. As you watch, pearly liquid drips from the fly of his pants and hits the cobbles, joining a small puddle there. His hips rock back against Simeon's form and his eyes rove over you and Lucifer. From his tormented expression, he's clearly feeling shame and arousal in equal measure, each feeding the other and intensifying them both. Simeon practically purrs behind him, letting Satan press back against his leg with a sort of lazy indulgence. Satan whines again when he realizes you're focused on him now, jerking his gaze away and panting harshly as he tries to school his features, but another drop escapes him and splashes obscenely. 

Lucifer has apparently decided that he's shared enough of you. He rearranges you so that you're almost completely blocked from view by his back and his wings, even shifting his lower wings to cover your legs. In the process he pushes his knot even deeper, driving a breathless grunt from you. He smirks and presses a long, deep kisses on you, rumbling with satisfaction and pride at having you wrapped so fully in him, at having invaded you so fully that your belly pushes against his hard abdomen. 

Lucifer's pleased rumble turns sharper and threatening as he turns his head and glowers. You can't see around him as he pulls his wings protectively over you, but you hear Mammon say, "Ok, ok, show's over, I got it - don't get your panties in a twist!" Lucifer's rumbling subsides and he returns to nipping and laving at your throat, apparently determined to mark the thin skin there as much as he'd marked you with his scent and his seed. 

You wiggle a little, uncomfortable with the pressure of so much fluid inside you - is he still coming? you can't tell if you're swelling more or just growing more and more aware of the stretch and the weight of it all - and whine a little. Lucifer rests his forehead on yours and nuzzles you with his nose, looking incredibly smug. He drops a light kiss on your nose before speaking. "Mine," he says. 

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, you've made your point there," Mammon grouses good naturedly. "But you're kinda stuck, ain't ya? And there's these buggers to get rid of, too." There's a dull thud that you think was Mammon kicking part of a dismembered mugger. You wrinkle your nose and bury your face against Lucifer's chest - you'd almost managed to forget about them, damnit. "All I'm saying is, if you're gonna stay here I can watch your back, ya know." 

"And if you'd rather leave in your, ah, current disheveled state, I can lend you my cape," Simeon offers. "For... dignity’s sake. I think Satan and I have matters to discuss, but it's easy enough to call for Solomon or Barbatos to dispatch the trash." 

Lucifer's feathers ruffle indignantly. "Your assistance is unneeded," he says. You pinch his side, hard, and he adds hastily, "but your offer is appreciated." You reward his good behavior with a sweet smile and a stroke along the base of the nearest wing that makes his jaw clench and his cock pulse again inside you. 

His magic is as warm and familiar as the wings wrapped around you, just as dark and velvety as it presses against your skin. You peek around him and wiggle your fingers as you say, "Good night... it's been, uh, well, um. Good night!" Lucifer turns and starts walking into the dark alley as you talk, the shadows fading from the bloody street to the dark hallways of the House of Lamentation with each stride. You nevertheless see Mammon give a jaunty salute with a cheeky grin while Simeon waves placidly. 

"Good night, lamb," echoes into the house with you as the sharp sound of Lucifer's steps on stone becomes the much softer tread of walking over carpet. 

"I can never face any of them ever again," you moan. Lucifer chuckles wickedly and purposely begins a rocking thrust to accentuate the motion of each long stride. 

"I told you, dearest. They are very well aware you are mine. Now, let me tend to you - I think a bath is in order. For both of us." 

"I'm taking care of you, too," you warn. "Don't think you can fuck your way out of being cared for." You kiss over his heart, feeling sappy and safe and loved. "If you don't complain about being a big scary demon that doesn't need love or attention, I'll even give your wings an extra good scratch and massage in the feather oil." Lies, you'd do that regardless. 

"Deal," Lucifer agrees easily, fucking into you as he carries you into his shower. He stops and looks at you seriously for a moment and you wait, quietly puzzled by his intensity and stillness. "I love you," he says solemnly. 

You can't help the goofy smile that stretches across your face at that - at least until he cranks on the water and holds you under the cold spray. He laughs openly as you shriek and thrash, tugging against his hold and the knot still tying you fast. 

"Evil man! Foul! Awful, awful demon!" 

"But _your_ awful demon," Lucifer declares smugly. The water warms as he kisses the outrage from your face. 

~☆~ _Epilogue_ ~☆~ 

You suppose it's unavoidable that you'd be sore the next morning... or that you slept in. At least Lucifer lazed in bed with you even if he didn't return to sleep, charmed by your grumpy insistence that he stay put and fulfil his bed-warming duties. You sit gingerly at the table for brunch - lunch? brunch? whatever - and start piling food on your plate as soon as Lucifer tucks in your chair. You're so focused on food that you don't realize your utensils are missing until you reach for them. 

"Hey, can you pass the -" the words die in your throat when you turn and see Satan and Simeon sitting to your left. Simeon smiles serenely and passes a set of silverware to Satan to hand to you. Neither of you can make eye contact as he hands off the silverware and the two of you sit in a quiet agony of mortification as the meal starts. 

Mammon, bless him but also you're going to strangle him for this, breaks the tension when he leans down between the two of you and stage-whispers, "Good job, tiger, I haven't seen Lucifer in this good a' mood since he discovered coffee. An' you! You were a trooper last night for Simeon! I'm so proud of you both!" With one hand on you and the other on Satan, he ruffles your hair and Satan's. 

The ensuing kerfuffle is short, loud, and so very normal that you know, momentary mortification aside, that nothing has changed at all. 


End file.
